Wolverine Redemption
by Outreach117
Summary: So just why did Clan Wolverine rebel in the early days of the Clans? What really pushed them to nuke an entire genetic repository, and why have they not been heard from since? How would a SPARTAN like John-117 integrate into the Clan Warrior Caste?
1. Prologue

_Prologue_

_The Ark, Beyond the Galactic Rim, 2553_

UNSC Master Chief Petty Officer John-117, SPARTAN, clung for dear life as they rocketed away from the Ark onboard the frigate _Forward Unto _Dawn, and towards the portal home. Pulling himself around a console in the main hangar, he collapsed in an exhausted heap, and allowed himself a rare opportunity to relax, although just a little.

_It's finished_, he thought. _I've done what I came to do, and now it is up to the fates and luck._ At that moment a distinctly soft female voice spoke to him, sensual yet with an underlying sense of strength and determination. Cortana, his ever loyal and trusted artificial intelligence, and a constant voice of confidence and guidance, seemed at a loss with the massive radiation pulse of Halo nipping at their heels and slowly gaining ground as they raced towards the portal.

"If we don't make it....." She started, but was cut off by the Chief.

"We'll make it," was his only reply.

"It's been an honor serving with you, John." She hardly ever called him by his first name, and when she did it was usually when he was injured or alone. The Chief, a man of very few words, resigned to closing his eyes, leaning his head back against the console and accepted his fate just as the white flash of Halo's pulse threatened to overrun them.

_A slightly different time and in a much different place........._

"Chief, chief can you hear me?" Came Cortana's inquiry. Groggily, John fought his eyes open. At first he could not see anything, but he flicked his helmet's light on, illuminating the darkened cabin. "Ah, I thought I'd lost you too." Came Cortana's relieved expression.

"What happened?" The Chief queried as he surveyed his surroundings.

"I'm not sure, when Halo fired it shook itself to pieces. Did a number on the Ark though." Cortana's tone had dropped almost half an octave, betraying a sense of loss and defeat. "We made it through the portal just as it collapsed......." She paused as the Chief turned and saw space where there should have been a bulkhead. Looking out, it was apparent, the frigate had been cleaved neatly in two. "Well, some of us made it."

The Chief slowly nodded his head and closed his eyes, floating down a darkened passageway.

"But you did it. Halo, Truth, The Covenant, and The Flood. It's finished."

"It's finished." The Chief replied, his voice even more gruff, the edge of exhaustion finally working in as he faced Cortana, her blue avatar shimmering on a localized holoprojector.

"I'll drop a distress beacon, but it could be a while before anyone finds us." She paused, then continued, "years even." The Chief did not even look up as he locked his MA5C assault rifle on a nearby rack, then moved to settle himself into the cryopod.

Before the door to the pod shut, Cortana gave the Chief one last glance, and he, for his part met it. "I'll miss you," she said softly and her avatar hugged herself.

"Wake me, when you need me," was John's reply, and allowed himself a smile. Cortana looked up and smiled back, then down again. The Chief fell silent, the green armored giant at last resting comfortably.........for now.

_At the same time in a not so different place......._

_The gates have been unlatched_

_Headstones pushed aside_

_Corpses shift_

_A fate you must abide!_

Then the voice fell silent in a deep slumber.


	2. Chapter 1

_Chapter 1_

_Clan Wolverine JumpShip _Supernova_, Pentagon Worlds, November 2822_

Aboard a space faring vessel, usually the last thing one wanted to hear was silence. So when something hit the massive starship with enough force to rock and shake the entire vessel, and with it the gentle hum of the K-F Drive ceasing, to say that much of the crew was concerned would be an understatement.

Chief Engineer Karl McLowry warily made his way from the mess hall where he had been having a quick breakfast to the bridge, already in his mind running through the possible situation, and not liking any one of them.

Jumpship rescue was tricky business. the K-F Drives were all but impossible to rebuild, some dated more than a century in age, the technology and manufacturing ability for new ships being lost in the downward spiral of the now defunct Star League, and the raw materials being rarer. To make matters worse, K-F Drives could interfere with each other in close proximity, meaning that one JumpShip could not tow or attach to another without either removing or destroying the K-F. Mentally he braced himself for the worst, but as always hoped for the best.

"Warning, hull breach. Loss of atmospheric pressure in decks 14 and 15, emergency patches in place. Evacuate damaged decks immediately." Came the warning over the ship's speakers. _Must have hit a meteor or some kind of space debris,_ Karl thought as he burst into a sprint towards the bridge and the Damage Control Center.

Arriving on the bridge via the central elevator, the place was in chaos. The captain was having a screaming fit with the navigator for being so clumsy, the comm officer on the communications line via HPG was desperately trying to raise another local ship or someone back on Strana Mechty. Neither apparently seemed to be working.

Karl wormed and twisted his way through the packed bridge to the damage control station. Even from a distance, the glowing red lights on the panel were enough to make his blood freeze. _Stravag! A complete failure of the hull plating on massive sections of decks 15 and 16, what did we hit, an asteroid?_ From the verbal tongue-lashing that the navigator was receiving, it was clear that they had hit _something_.

Fortunately the hull of the JumpShip was equipped with a special type of adhesive patch that when breached, the adhesive would quickly form a temporary barrier, long enough to evacuate any personnel and equipment to another deck, or at least close secure bulkheads on those decks and allow damage-control parties to begin repairs. The thing that most worried Karl was the fact that the K-F drive was down. This was going to be a long day.

_Two hours later......._

Karl and his DC teams were busy on the outside of the hull, complete in spacesuits and mounted frame walkers. Fortunately the damage to the K-F drive was relatively minor, some coils and conduits needed to be replaced, but a few days charging the solar sail from the nearby trinary star system and the ship would be ready to move out. The damage to the hull, while ultimately not critical, would be enough to put the _Supernova _in drydock for at least a few months.

However, the real surprise was what the ship had collided with. It was not an asteroid or piece of space junk, but rather appeared to be another ship entirely....or half of one at least. The question of _what kind of ship is it_ ran through everyone's head on the DC team. _I am a Master Engineer but I have no idea at all, it certainly does not look like any design I recognize._

"So where do you suppose it came from Karl?" Asked one of the members on the team. "How'd it get here? We're way out in the middle of nowhere, we only stopped to recharge the K-F on the way back to Strana Mechty." One of the members of the DC team asked, one of the younger ones, noted Karl.

"No idea, and please, watch your use of contractions. You know about that," Karl mildly reprimanded the tech who responded with a huff over the radio.

Not everyone took a liking to the new society the Nicholas Kerensky was creating. They had left the Inner Sphere to _preserve_ the ideas of the Star League, a republic form of government, and freedom. Instead, the ilKhan seemed obsessed with creating a caste system oligarchy, with warriors at the top, and laborer's at the bottom. Even moreso denying things such as surnames except to a select few, and now this radical new concept of genetically modifying and creating super-warriors, no more natural childbirth, at least in the warrior caste.

_Sure, you can breed things like strength, size, and speed, but how can you quantify and breed traits like love, loyalty, respect and dedication?_ Love, now there was a concept that was growing even more alien to the almighty warrior caste. Only Clan Wolverine, under the guidance of Khan Sarah McEvedy, seemed resistant to the ilKhans notions, a fact that was brought up more than once in the Clan Council halls. Then came Operation Klondike, the retaking of the Pentagon Worlds. The original five worlds that the exiled SLDF forces had settled on, then fell into infighting, and forced a second Exodus to the Kerensky Cluster.

The fighting had been brual, but it was the orgy of senseless murder of the civilian population by the other 19 clans that had sickened Clan Wolverine the most. _Those people were not willing subjects, most were just barely hanging on, trying to stay alive. They hailed as saviors, and in turn we butcher them_, Karl thought with a knot in his stomach. It was there that Clan Wolverine had drawn the line and Khan McEvedy went against the ilKhan and offered, and received, full quarter for the V Corps and 331st still on Eden at the time of the invasion. There was no bloodshed, they had been fighting for survival against the other rebels on the planet, but if the ilKhan had is way, they would all have been lined up and shot.

_A whirlwind is coming, I can feel it_. Karl shook his head and turned his attention back to the half a ship that was still wedged against the _Supernova._


	3. Chapter 2

_Chapter 2_

_Derelict Vessel, Pentagon Worlds, November 2822_

Boarding the vessel had been more of an act of art than any appreciable military operation. Many of the doors were long since corroded shut, the derelict itself appeared _ancient_, as if hundreds of years old. _Impossible_, thought Karl, _we are the first human pioneers here, and we only arrived here in the late 28th century, only a few decades ago. This ship looks like it has been cast adrift for centuries! Where the hell did it come from?_

Further investigation only added more questions than were answered. The design was clearly human, with english writing and lettering on the walls, pointing to the various sections of the ship, so that ruled out any possibility of an alien origin, but what was the UNSC? It did not sound like any organization that he recognized. This made the old, creaking ship even more spooky, and the small detachment of troopers assigned to guard the technicians visibly clung their weapons tighter to their shoulders.

_Deep inside the Derelict_

_Light, I see light._ Those were the first thoughts through Spartan-117's mind as he groggily became aware of his surroundings.

"Rise and shine loverboy," Cortana gently teased the Master Chief as he slowly heaved himself out of the cryotube, taking deliberate care in being slow to avoid any accidental damage or injury. "Did you sleep well?" She queried as her shimmering form reappeared for the first time in over two centuries on the small pedestal.

The Chief grunted an affirmative as his MJOLNIR suit ran basic diagnostics. Fortunately, everything checked out including that all-important shields, although the Biofoam reserves had long since expired, and the fuel powering the micro-fusion reactor on his back was dangerously low. He had enough for maybe a month or two of continuous operation, possibly three if he was careful.

"So, how long has it been Cortana?" Asked the Chief has he slung his MA5C and attached clips to the magnetic plating on his suit.

Cortana smirked as she replied, "Well for a man of almost 300 years old, you're looking pretty damn handsome." John slowed slightly, _300 years? Amazing._ the Chief rarely called anything amazing, and turned to face Cortana.

"Well you aren't looking too bad yourself. So what's the situation?" Cortana paused a moment before responding.

"After you went into cold-sleep I set up a small program to monitor your systems and mine as I went into hibernation, and programmed to awaken us whenever we were rescued or approached a planetary body. It would appear, however, that we found both."

The Chief nodded, and turned sharply around as a loud clang could be heard from the other side of the bulkhead door. Then starting at the bottom, an eerie glow began to work its way up. Somebody was cutting through. The Chief unslung his MA5C, settled in a corner, and took aim, his finger wavering slightly off the trigger, waiting until he was sure what or who it was on the other side was a friendly.........


	4. Chapter 3

_Chapter 3_

_Derelict Vessel, Pentagon Worlds, November 2822_

"How much longer, technician?" The impatient officer, a certain Elemental Star Captain Meghan Buckler asked Karl as he continued to cut through another of the many series of doors, placing a bit more emphasis on the word 'technician' clearly stating her feeling on those not in the warrior caste.

"Only a few more minutes Ma'am," was his reply, all the while mentally mocking her. This particular bulkhead door seemed a bit thicker and more resistant than the previous ones encountered thus far, this one leading to a section labeled _Cryo Storage_. One did not have to be a member of the Scientist Caste to figure out what lay beyond, and the drifting mausoleum continued to give him and the rest of those present the creeps.

Overall there were another three technicians aside from the Elemental Point, which consisted of 5 Elementals total, the Star Captain being one of them. The standing orders for the team was to recover any material or items of interest, and in the unlikely event of there being any survivors, they should be rescued and recovered as well, rather than taken as bondsman, the Clan equivalent of POW's, since this was not a declared battle with no specific opponent, anyone or anything aboard would be granted full-quarter. This was a move that more than one warrior was bothered by, Star Captain Meghan Buckler among them, but no one dared challenge the Captain to a Circle of Equals over an issue that most felt was completely unrealistic.

The entire Clan culture centered around a very strong martial code and honor called zellbringen. Emphasis was placed on the importance of 1 on 1 combat in an attempt to keep civilian and collateral damage at a minimum. From the outside, the Clan method of combat, in particular bidding the fewest number of forces to complete a specific objective, would seem to be more like a game than warfare, but the entire martial code was based around the idea of avoiding collateral and wasting resources, both of which were a major source of strife in the Inner Sphere around the fall of the Star League. It also served the dual-purpose of ensuring that forces were not wasted, and that they kept themselves at the highest level of proficiency.

Part of the code dealt with those captured. If a warrior was captured by a rival, he or she was expected to offer no resistance and in fact openly assist their captors, the belief being that if one is defeated in battle by a superior opponent, then that opponent deserved only the utmost of respect which the newfound bondsman could only provide by offering their complete unquestioned cooperation.

Of course the code of zellbringen only applied to those who respected it, and should an opponent openly disregard the code, the Clans had no compunction whatsoever with resulting to more "traditional" methods of combat, again traumatically demonstrated in the retaking of the Pentagon Worlds.

Karl returned his focus to the cutting torch, the last few inches of the titanium door finally yielding. Meghan motioned him aside as two other members of her elemental point, also clad in spacesuits, slowly began to force the door open.

Fear was as alien an emotion to a SPARTAN as love. The closest thing that a SPARTAN felt to fear was being unsettled, and at that moment John-117 was feeling rather unsettled. _Forward Into Dawn_ was being boarded by unknown forces in an unknown location at an unknown time. Strength, unknown. Intent unknown, far too many unknowns involved for his comfort.

He watched intently as the door was slowly forced open, and rays from flashlights shone through. He counted eight of them, all in spacesuits. Three were relatively small, at least compared to a SPARTAN, about average for human, and at this range he could tell they were definitely human. This eased his concern slightly, but the other five gave him pause. All carrying weapons and just as large as himself, they fanned out in the room in a deliberate search pattern, clearly on the lookout for something. They moved with a smoothness that only came with years of training.

Cortana whispered into his ear, "So what do we do Chief, do we come out shooting, or find out their intentions first, and then shoot?" The Chief did not speak or even move as he considered his options, not wanting any sudden movement or sound to give away his position. The air in his suit would not last long, and if he had any chance to get off this wreck, now was as good a time as any.

Analyzing the five giants, he noticed one in particular that was giving move and command orders with nothing more than hand signals, clearly the leader. Not exposing himself further from behind the cryo tube, he trained his MA5C on the soldier, and let out a standard military challenge, "Halt, and be recognized!" The Chief bellowed, using the speakers in his armor to amplify his already booming voice.

As one the five immediately froze and trained their rifles on the source of the sound, faintly seeing the dark green and black armored clad figure in the corner, drawing down right back at them. A tense moment followed, but no one opened fire. The Chief recognized it immediately as a battle of wills, and who would give first.

On the other side, to say that elementals rarely experienced fear as well as surprise would be an accurate statement as well, so when Star Captain Meghan Buckler heard someone not clearly on the recovery team or her Elemental Point shout a challenge at her, she was to put it mildly, shocked.

On instinct her entire point had already drawn and leveled their weapons on the unidentified source. _What in the name of Kerensky is that? _She thought as the source of her shock came into focus. It was humanoid, green-armored with a reflective faceplate, and easily the size of the biggest elemental that she ever knew. _Stravag! Next time I have a gut feeling about challenging an order......_

Trusting her point, which kept the draw on the strange visitor, she remembered her orders and slightly lowered her weapon. Still clearly at the ready, but not directly pointing at the figure in the corner. The visitor, however, made no such move and kept his rifle trained squarely on her faceplate.

She made a step forward, and cleared her throat to speak. "I am Star Captain Meghan Buckler of the Clan Wolverine. You will identify yourself, place your weapon at the deck, and step back away from it if you value your freebirth life," she stated evenly.

The Chief took a moment to respond. _I _could_ take them, but do I really want to, and do I need to? _Cortana seemed to pick up on his thoughts and finished them for him.

"She is a military woman, Chief. Keep respectful but hold your ground. If she had intended to kill you, they would have already opened up without asking questions. At the least they're human and not Covenant." John grunted in agreement.

"I am Master Chief John-117, SPARTAN. You are standing on UNSC territory, and I will not yield myself or my weapon to you until you are recognized. State your intentions!" He barked back, still maintaining the edge in his voice.

Meghan could not but help to repress a small grin. This John was certainly a cool character. Most opponents in five to one odds against elementals in personal combat would have long since yielded...or found themselves dead. He did not give an inch. _Either he is extraordinarily brave, or extraordinarily stupid, or both. We will find out soon enough._

"We are here on a salvage and recovery mission. I have standing orders to recover and rescue anything and anyone of _value_. I suppose I might bend those orders to allow them to encompass you." The figure still did not move and continued to keep his weapon trained on her. Meghan groaned slightly, this standoff could not continue indefinitely.

"Either come out or be left here to rot. I have already lowered my weapon, and my point will not fire without my authorization, but I have little time to waste and I have a remarkably limited patience. We will lower our weapons and you will come out, or this will get messy, quiaff?"

This was not entirely true, elementals were trained on initiative and decision-making while in combat, but standing orders were to rescue any survivors, and loathe that she was to admit it, this John character could be a very valuable wellspring of intelligence. Meghan made motion with her left hand, and the point as a whole, lowered their weapons.

John stayed put a moment longer, unsure exactly what _quiaff _meant, then called out, "I accept you at your word!" He slowly raised himself up, and lowered his MA5C partly, a calculated risk. He was betting that should they be duping him that his shields and speed would allow him to get off the first shot and return to cover. Fortunately, that opportunity never came.

The Star Captain took another step towards the stranger in armor, "you will come with us!"

"Come with you where?" Was the Chief's reply.

Meghan shook her head. "You are an insolent freebirth, quiaff? I cannot believe that the Captain would make me sully my hands with the likes of you. You are to be our 'guest' aboard the JumpShip _Supernova_. My superiors have many questions for you."

"I have no intention of being anyone's prisoner," the Chief replied, visually tightening his hold on his rifle. Meghan sighed again in agitation.

"I said 'guest', not 'prisoner' or even 'bondsman'. Now, you will come with us," the Star Captain replied evenly as she made another step towards the SPARTAN.

"Go with her, Chief," Cortana advised. "What alternative do we have? Wait another few centuries for the next strangers to come by?" The Chief gritted his teeth behind his faceplate, not quite wanting to admit Cortana was right. "We really do not have any other options at the moment. Live to fight another day. I suggest you hand over the rifle and play along, for now. You.....still have _it _don't you?"

The Chief nodded to both Cortana and Meghan at the same time. Cortana's question of _it_ referring to the Type-1 Energy Weapon/Sword hidden in a compartment in the suit's back, and also in acknowledgement that he would comply with the Star Captain's request. After a moment more of hesitation, he stepped forward slowly, lowered his rifle and presented it butt-first to the Star Captain.

The Elemental point slowly moved in and formed a line around the Chief, two in front, three in back with him in the middle and started to work their way back towards the JumpShip. All carried their weapons at the ready, with the Star Captain in the front, who had her rifle slung casually over her back and the Chief's MA5C in her left hand. As they led him out of the doomed ship, the Chief asked, "by the way, what year is it?" Meghan merely gave him an irritated sidelong glance as they moved onward.

_Elsewhere in the Deep Periphery.........._

The Snow Raven aerotech was bored, another long day on grueling garrison patrol along the outskirts of the binary system his JumpShip had stopped at to recharge their drives.

So when an object moving at an erratic course came at him suddenly out of nowhere, was very surprised. Catching a flash and glimpse out his starboard window, he banked his fighter hard to the left and gave chase, not bothering to radio the JumpShip.

The object zipped and zagged, but compared to his aerotech fighter it was cumbersomely slow. He got a closer look as the distance was closed. The object was purple, cylindrical in shape with what appeared to be two small engines sitting on pylons on either side at a downward angle of approximately 45 degrees from the main body. Suddenly, the engines on whatever the object was went dead and began to drift out of control. The aerotech got in closer for a visual inspection. _Interesting design, looks like some kind of one-person transport. It looks far to fragile to be anything formidable._

The aerotech opened a comm channel to the JumpShip. "JumpShip _Vindicator, _this is aerotech patrol _Blackjack 6._ We have some kind of stranded craft out here in the asteroid belt. Requesting a tug for recovery, over." A static-filled response came a moment later.

"_Aff on your request_ BlackJack 6_. ETA 2 hours, stay on station for recovery operations._"

_Stravag! Two hours? Do they not realize these things do not even have a privvy?!_ The aerotech mentally cursed the freebirth at the other end of the comm but sent his acknowledgement of the order.

Two hundred yards away inside the free-floating _Banshee_ fighter, a lone Sanghelli body lay inert, but the Flood infection spore still buried in its chest still pulsed very much alive and twitched in anticipation, ready to take the Flood to the next stage of evolution.


	5. Chapter 4

_Chapter 4_

_JumpShip _Supernova, _Pentagon Worlds, November 2822_

Master Chief John-117 sat on the lone bunk that the meager cabin provided. _At least it's not the brig_ he thought. Even for a ship in space, the quarters were cramped, fortunately the Chief had spent most of his adult life aboard ships and was used to the confined space.

The small cabin did not have a porthole or any view to the outside, but it did have a small shower and head, and the Chief had been provided with some basic toiletries such as a towel, soap, a razor and a toothbrush and toothpaste. He was also provided a pair of sandals and a basic set of sweatgear.

He now wore the provided clothing after having labored intensely in the shower for almost an hour, scrubbing and cleaning every part of the MJOLNIR suit which now lay drying at his feet at the deck. He did feel naked without being encased within the suit's protective layer, but he needed to conserve the power, and the suit needed cleaning regardless. It had taken quite a bit of effort to remove the material, and while his suit did not glimmer or shine, it was at least a little more presentable and no longer fragrant.

He ran a hand across his freshly shaven face, and secretly was deeply appreciative of the basic necessities. He had only two visitors so far, although he had no doubt he was under surveillance. One was the ship's doctor, who had come to just check his vitals and ensure there was nothing broken. He noted that as the doctor went about his work that he was escorted by two of the hulking infantrymen. _Good, let them fear me, or at least respect me _had been the first thought through the Chief's mind_._ Fortunately, aside from a few bruises and being slightly dehydrated and malnourished, the Chief was the picture of health.

The doctor had asked him a few questions about where the Chief came from, the purpose of the CNI implant at the base of his neck, and a bit more on the Chief's history. The Chief answered what he could trying to be evasive, without sounding evasive. He gave his name, rank and serial number, date and location of birth. The Doctor had provided a little more information than the Star Captain had previously, advising him of the current year and location, also trying not to be too forthright with the information. The silence came when the Chief had asked about the status of the sanghelli and the Covenant, which the Doctor had no reply to, and the Chief kept quiet from there on, not wanting to volunteer any more information than necessary.

Surprisingly, no one had made any move to try and confiscate his armor. The Chief had no way to know, but since he was not claimed as a bondsman the code of zellbringen expressly forbade the taking of personal property from those not involved in or claimed in battle. _Isorla_ was the Clan term used to reflect the spoils of battle, but even in the case of bondsmen, it traditionally was something no more than say a belt buckle or some other trinket, and when the bondsman was made a full member of the clan, typically the isorla was returned as a gift called a _ransom_.

The second visitor had come immediately after the ship's physician had left. This one appeared to be little more than a worker or laborer, and wore a strange cord tied to his wrist. He had brought the Chief a steaming hot meal, which after the laborer left, the Chief found himself ravenously digging into. The meal wasn't much, some water with some kind of fruit or electrolyte mix, a brothy soup, and what looked like jello. The Chief suspected that the Doctor had recommended a light meal that would be easy on his digestive system, regardless he felt his spirits improving, although he did not lower his guard at all.

Reluctantly deciding against redonning his armor, the Chief flicked the lights off and settled down to rest, resolving himself to sleep in thirty-minute increments.

_Captain's Ready Room, JumpShip _Supernova

Around the circular table, several individuals at watching the fuzzy screen that showed the interior of the Chief's quarters. They had been watching for the past hour as he had his meal, cleaned his armor and settled down to rest, at which point the feed was turned off.

Star Captain Meghan Buckler eyed the others at the table as everyone in unison turned to face each other. Aside from herself, Chief Technician Karl was there, along with the Captain of the _Supernova_, Star Colonel Ryan Hennesy and the ship's Doctor. Also among the guests were a few other various Star Captains of both the mechwarrior and elemental phenotype, a few of whom she recogized, but the most important guest by far was the Khan herself, Sarah McEvedy.

She had also been in-system when the collision occurred on a nearby DropShip the _Avenger_. Star Colonel Hennesy, wanting to keep things under-wraps and within Clan Wolverine, had sent her a private high-priority message on the discovery. Her response was to take the first flight over, and assess the situation firsthand. With the storm brewing for Clan Wolverine quite clear on the horizon, she did not want to let anything slip and give away any potential advantage her Clan had.

The conversation now delved into what to do with their new guest. Should they let the intelligence guys go to work with their mind-numbing drugs and try to get him to talk, or should they take the more conservative approach to get this clearly lost and time-traveled warrior back into the fold?

The Doctor made his feelings apparent, physically the visitor was in no condition to undergo chemical interrogation, and from his brief conversation and the empirical evidence it was clear that whoever this person was, he did not come from the Inner Sphere or Clan space, and had been locked away in cryo sleep for a very, very long time. Technician Karl supported this, despite some withering looks from members of the warrior caste, who felt very much to the contrary. The debate went on for a while longer until the Khan made her decision.

"He is not a bondsman, he is a guest. Clearly, he is not from our realm, nor the old realm, so he must come from somewhere else. He is a warrior, and will be shown the respect due one, but it is important to find out as much as we can about him. Already my technicians have told me that the derelict, even though largely wasted, is a treasure-trove of technology, far more valuable than anything in the Brian's Cache." She let the words hung in the air for a few moments. Brian's Cache was one of the Clan Wolverine's most closely guarded secrets. It was a fully self-contained battlemech production and storage facility, left behind during the second exodus from the Pentagon Worlds to the Kerensky Cluster. If things ever got bad for the Clan, that was their "ace in the hole."

The Khan turned to Meghan. "Star Captain, you are already acquainted with our guest, I suspect he might be a bit more receptive to you than a total stranger." Meghan bolted upright and looked the Khan in her eye, not quite believing what she was hearing.

"The battlefield is the truest test of a person's character, and you demonstrated to him that at the least you are a person of your word. You promised him quarter and that he would not be harmed, he has not. I would like you to lead the indoctrination process. Find out what you can about him, but you are _not_ to use any subversive or pressuring methods. It may take longer, but I would rather that he be a willing member versus being coerced or killed."

The Khan met her gaze, and a million words were shared between the two of them without a sound being spoken. On one side, it was total revulsion at having to baby this stranger and disdain for a task that she felt below herself. On the other side, she intended to make an object lesson out of how pointless bigotry could be a hindrance rather than a help, and the Khan had every intention of breaking the Star Captain of that feeling.

Khan McEvedy then turned to Karl. "Chief Technician Karl, I am appointing you to be his personal assistant." The technician jumped slightly at the mention of his name. As a member of the lower castes, it was unusual that someone as high-ranking as Khan would address him directly, and yet there she was, staring him down right across the table at which he now sat.

"You and your crew are to provide him everything he needs and requests. Equipment, gear, repairs to his suit as much as we can provide, everything. Learn what you can as well, and you will make your reports to me directly, and me alone. Outside interference will not be tolerated and those found in violation of that order will find themselves within the Circle." The Khan pinned every other officer at the table with a look that if her eyes had been PPC's, they would have been collectively vaporized, Karl merely obediently bobbed his head excitedly, too tongue-tied to say anything else.

"Dismissed." With that, the entire group stood and headed towards the door, some with more enthusiasm than others.

_Elsewhere in the Periphery....._

"JumpShip _Vindicator_, this is Utility Heavy 126, preparing to dock with precious cargo, over." A static filled acknowledgement came on the radio, and the flood form hidden in the _Banshee_ quivered in anticipation and single-minded purpose.


	6. Chapter 5

_Chapter 5_

_JumpShip _Supernova,_ Pentagon Worlds, November 2822_

The Master Chief had been resting comfortably, all things considered, for the past several hours. True to his personal goal, he had broken up his sleep to no more than 20 or 30 minutes at a time so that he never fell too deeply asleep to become unaware of his surroundings. The cabin remained dark, and without so much as a chrono to keep time, everything passed as a haze.

At one point the same laborer had returned, still with an armed escort, to deliver his meal, although this time the escort remained in the hallway and only the laborer entered the room. The Chief considered starting conversation, but given the man's demeanor and every effort to look down and totally disinterested to avoid attracting attention quickly squashed that idea.

A little while later, after having been sufficiently rested, the Chief had set about a basic set of calisthenics to help get his body back in shape. Nothing too intense, just some stretches, push-ups, sit-ups and a few other moves to help get his relatively underworked muscles back into gear. He still retained much of his strength, and could still dead-lift several hundred pounds easily, and his reaction time was as quick as ever, but he feared losing that little bit of finely honed edge, he kept about his business, if for no other reason than to break the boredom.

Right in the middle of a set of push-ups, on set number 127 out of 200 of the four-count exercise, there was a knock on the cabin door before sliding wide-open. The Chief immediately bolted to his feet and saluted, the slightest evidence of what might have been sweat on his brow. In the passageway, dressed in a tight-fitting grey jumpsuit with black highlights, stood Star Captain Meghan Buckler.

The Chief immediately recognized her, even though his first view of her in the dark wreck of _Forward Into Dawn_ had not been the best, it was more the fluid of her movements and how she carried herself that gave her identity away. The Chief allowed himself a moment to analyze her in more detail, he realized with a start that he was sizing her up.

She stood barely a hair below him in terms of height, and was almost as broad in the chest. Powerful muscles rippled below the snug-fitting jumpsuit, clearly the work of a lifetime of training and evolution.

Her absolutely raven hair dangled in a ponytail that almost reached her waist, and her skin had a tanned look to it, almost the color of honey, which contrasted sharply to John's milky white skin from an eternity spent in his armor. What took the Chief by surprise were her eyes. She had absolutely hard emerald eyes that could pierce titanium, he could only be reminded of Linda-058 when looking into those eyes.

The Star Captain's face took on a hard edge, and after a moment's pause, returned the salute, also taking a moment to size up the Chief. She noted a vicious scar on his left cheek just below his eye, his flattop hair, and eyes that while had a look of determination, seemed sad, hollow. His muscles were as ripped and defined as even the finest elemental she knew, and for a moment she had to ask herself if the two of them ever did come to blows, who really would be the victor?

Although she did not have any way of knowing it, the Chief would most certainly win out, largely due to his greater combat experience and augmentations of greater speed and near indestructible bones, although it would not be unreasonable for one to imagine him groping for an ice pack or two immediately thereafter.

She dropped her salute after a moment more, the Chief crisply dropping his, as she cleared her throat to speak.

"Master Chief John-117, I am Star Captain Meghan Buckler. Even for a mind as simple as yours, I am sure you remember me. I have been assigned to acquaint you with the Clan, and as your personal envoy." She paused a moment and made a motion with her left hand. Promptly Chief Technician Karl appeared in the doorway. "Technician Karl has also been appointed as your personal technician for your arms and armor, and will provide you everything you need."

The Chief and giant woman both cast a sidelong glance at the much smaller man, who seemed to shrink in the presence of two individuals who he knew could squash him even more casually than swatting a fly. John's attention turned back to the Star Captain as she spoke again.

"I wish to reiterate that you are not a prisoner and are our guest, and I have been left strict orders to afford you all the rights and respect due one. I will carry out my duties faithfully." She paused a moment before continuing, although her tone conveyed the hidden message that if it were up to her, this would most definitely _not_ be how things went down.

"You have many questions, yes? So do we. You are not from this place, or any place that we know of, that much is apparent. Now, you will come with me to the Captain's Ready Room, we will talk more there." She turned to leave, clearly intending for the Chief to follow. The Chief paused, casting a glance at the MJOLNIR armor in the corner.

Reading his thoughts Meghan spoke, "your gear will be left untouched. The guards outside have clear orders from the Khan and myself not to allow admittance of anyone except you or I, and nobody crosses me....nobody " The last comment was a clear threat, although John did not appear affected and kept silent.

_A few hours later......._

The Master Chief walked out of the Ready Room feeling mentally drained. The questions had been professional and friendly, but still intense. The Chief had divulged as little as he could without sounding evasive, although it was apparent to all in the room that he was not comfortable with being probed so much.

What he had learned was that wherever the portal had ejected him, it was not the same universe that he started in. History had taken a drastic change and turn of events. There was no Flood, no Covenant, no Halo, and no UNSC. His hosts at first found the concept incredible, but many of the artifacts aboard _Forward Unto Dawn_ supported his claim, including a few surviving computer records.

The Chief had not made any mention of Cortana, the Halo's or the Flood, deciding that if they were out there in this universe somewhere, and with the intents of his hosts still not quite known, he chose to keep those to himself, at least for now. He was sure that eventually it would be found out, Cortana he was sure of it, but he wanted to learn more about his new surroundings first.

The Star Captain walked next to him again, not a word being spoken. The silence was shattered by a loud rumbling coming from John's empty stomach. They both stopped in unison and Meghan pinned John with a look which he returned, and for a moment he appeared slightly sheepish. Meghan fought her best to contain a small smirk and failed, "please tell me that was not you."

"I am afraid it was, ma'am," was his reply. Shaking her head, and feeling a bit famished herself, they changed course down a different corridor. In the distance John could both hear and smell the sound of something cooking, and it smelt good.

Entering into the Warrior's Galley, John took a moment to analyze the new section of the ship. The walls were adorned with murals, pieces of armor, swords, crests and a variety of memorabilia that made the place clearly designated for warriors and warriors only, a large Clan Wolverine banner hanging from the ceiling. The only non-warriors in the entire place were the handful of kitchen staff, although every warrior knew it was important not to disrespect the cooks.

As the two entered, the conversation at the tables got very quiet as the two went down the chow line, and the Chief could practically feel all the eyes in the room burning into him. He ignored their glares and went about filling up his plates and settling down on an uninterrupted table, and began to eat in silence.

The meal tasted good, being some kind of ravioli pasta with bread and bug juice, and John's stomach rumbled in gratitude for the chance to digest real food. Little was spoken between the Chief and the Star Captain, although her outwardly icy exterior had started to show a couple cracks here and there. _At least she smiles_ he thought as he nibbled on his bread.

About halfway through the meal, a long shadow cast over his and the Star Captain's plate. Both turned to see elemental Star Commander Greg Ebon, a clear look of disdain on his face. He had been present at the Ready Room briefing earlier, and had been one of the more outspoken critics and harsher inquirers of the Chief, having been reminded several times by the Khan to tone it down. His point of four other elementals stayed further back, but were clearly arrayed in a fashion that indicated they were ready to jump in at the Star Commander's word.

He addressed only the Star Captain, "so what did you bring down with you today? Trash I see. Take a hint, this _freebirth_ is not welcome here!" The conversations at the other tables ceased, and a drawing crowd made a large circle around the two groups.

_ Freebirth, that's twice in just as many days I've been insulted with that term, but what does it mean_? John asked himself as he turned to make eye contact with the towering elemental.

Meghan spoke first, "The Khan has afforded him the rights and privileges of a guest aboard this ship. I suggest you follow her orders before I make you, and you know I will enjoy doing so," she spoke in a menacing tone. The Star Captain and Commander both came from the same sibko, a group of children in the Clan born and raised at the same time.

The two held a long-standing rivalry between each other, which in recent years had gone to an outright blood feud. The Star Commander blamed her for his losing his recent trial of Position to advance in rank, while she viewed him as a hotheaded renegade. Even after several Trials of Grievances, there was still plenty of bad blood, and while Meghan was merely arrogant when it came to the other castes in the Clan, Greg took it to the extreme.

He responded, "perhaps I am not making myself clear. Get him OUT!" And with that, he reeled back to take a swing at the Chief's face.

John had been trained to handle people in one of three ways. If they were his superiors, he saluted them and followed their orders. If they were his allies, he assisted them. If they were enemies, he destroyed them, and the Star Commander had just made the mistake of making himself an enemy.

To the Chief's augmented reflexes, the Star Commander's blow seemed to play in slow-motion, and John leaped into action in a blur. He ducked, the swing from the Star Commander going wide above where his head once was. He then launched himself at Greg's hulking form.

Relying on years of practice, the Chief flattened his palm and channeled the energy through his body, bringing massive force behind the blow and struck straight up at the Star Commander's chin. Greg was knocked cold instantly by the sheer force of the impact along with a sickening cracking sound of his jaw shattering, and then he went airborne. A few seconds later, he landed in a heap on the deck at the feet of his elemental Point, blood pouring from the sides of his mouth. The elemental point looked down at the deck, surprised to see their Commander laid out so thoroughly, and so quickly. It was all the opportunity that John needed.

He launched himself at the four remaining elementals in a flurry, moving so fast he may as well have been a ghost. The first elemental went down immediately after a head-butt to his face shattered his nose, followed by a chop to the back of the neck sent him to join Star Commander Greg Ebon in unconsciousness.

The second elemental, trying to take the initiative and attack, charged and lunged at John. _He's overextended_ thought the Chief as the massive infantryman was bearing down on him. Casually sidestepping the attacker, the Chief grabbed one of the outstretched arms, and the elemental found himself in a wrist-throw that ended with him being put _through_ a table and was only stopped by the hard deck with a resounding _slam! _as his hulk connected with the floor. Only a slight groan and the rise and fall of his chest indicated he was still alive.

John whirled to face the last two opponents, but he found none. Witnessing the fates of the majority of their point at the hands of a single opponent, the two remaining elementals raised their hands and yielded the battle to the SPARTAN. John, breathing heavily, turned and faced the crowd, a menacing look on his face. Not a soul in the room dared to match his gaze, and collectively they look at the deck in a silent salute, the only sounds in the mess hall being the semi-conscious moans and groans of the defeated. The two remaining elementals gathered their fallen comrades up and hauled them away to sickbay along with a few medtechs who had arrived, hearing the commotion in the passing hallway.

Only Star Captain Meghan Buckler appeared pleased, and secretly was completely in awe of this unknown warrior. She still could not believe that a single man could take on three highly-trained elementals, and still come out victorious without even a scratch to show for it. She was sure of one thing, that this Master Chief had earned her respect, and the respect of everyone else present in the mess hall that day.

She also felt a flood of other emotions, a smidgeon of fear, but also a twang of personal interest, and oddly she felt compelled to deepen and open it in time. This strange visitor clearly lived only to win, and he was someone to have on her side. At that moment she vowed to herself that he would be, _that he must be_. No matter, whatever means that she would have to take, he would be hers.


	7. Chapter 6

_Chapter 6_

_JumpShip _Supernova, _Pentagon Worlds, November 2822_

Master Chief John-117 and Chief Technician Karl both stood wearing protective gear and face masks inside the maintenance facilities of the JumpShip, his suit of MJOLNIR armor laid out in pieces on worktable in front of both of them. Getting the Chief's suit of armor back up to specs had been no easy task, and had been a long and arduous process.

Many of the small components had to be custom-molded, and the heavy armor was not easy to work with. The two of them had worked out a system in the past week, John provided the muscle, the Karl the skills and technical know-how for the repair process. Granted the Chief knew the inner-workings of his armor like the back of his hand, having lived most of his life in it and having taken time with the UNSC technicians during servicing and repair to learn as much as he could, the practical application of machining skills and metalworking was best left to a professional.

The Chief could only be held in wonder at Karl's skills. In less than a day, he had managed to remold and fill in the various points dings and hits on John's armor, using a Ferro-Fibrous material, the same type of armor used on the Clan's Battlemechs. The metal was actually markedly stronger and lighter than the original MJOLNIR armor plating, and the two had set about the process of replacing as many armored panels with the superior alloy as they could.

The Chief had first encountered Battlemechs on a tour through the mechbay and Karl's repair shop. The armored behemoths stood more than thirty feet tall, and bristling with various armament. They vaguely reminded the Chief of the Covenant SCARAB walkers. While a single SCARAB would have dwarfed even the largest Assault Mech John had seen so far, a particular model called the _Atlas _with an especially intimidating skull-looking cockpit, massive powerful arms and weapons poking out at various places, any opponent would be indeed be in need of clean underwear, and he doubted that a single SCARAB could be a match for the _Atlas_.

Focusing his attention back to his armor, John helped hefty off the massive back plating covering the MJOLNIR armor's more sensitive components, namely the micro-fusion reactor, shield generators, and electronic systems. Today, the two were after the fusion generator. The fuel was near-expired, not through overuse but due to radioactive decay, and the beer-can sized nuke reactor needed to be refueled and rebuilt. The other electronic systems in the armor appeared almost pristine, thanks to the airtight and moist-less environment that they had remained in for the past few centuries, there was no sign of corrosion, dust, dirt or any other indications of use.

Since all Clan Battlemechs used fusion reactors, and indeed a number of smaller vehicles, reassembly would be a fairly simple matter. Technician Karl worked with intensity, not wishing to draw the wrath of the massive warrior working next to him, although he did not understand how immensely grateful the Chief was to have his armor back to spec, improved even. Karl feared the Chief, having heard of the melee he had with an entire elemental point, and found motivation anew to keep him satisfied.

The incident in the mess hall in the week prior had generated quite a bit of scuttlebutt aboard the _Supernova._ Most warriors aboard the ship nodded at the Chief as an acknowledgement of respect and skill, and even the normally cold and distant Star Captain Meghan Buckler had opened up to him considerably.

Star Commander Ebon, last the Chief heard, was in sickbay after undergoing facial reconstruction surgery for his shattered jaw and whiplash, and was expected to be eating out of a straw for at least three months. The other two elementals who tried to take him fared a little better. The first one had a shattered nose and a concussion, and now was apparently on the receiving end of a number of jokes by his fellow elementals, although they were good-natured given the skill of his opponent. The other elemental that the Chief had put through a table suffered several broken ribs and a broken arm. The remaining two elementals who had yielded the fight suffered little more than a slightly bruised ego. The Chief felt no empathy for them at all.

Karl used a delicate set of tools to slowly extract the expired fuel from the reactor casing and placed it in a lead-covered container. He then moved the empty shell to a small computer station, where a scanner managed to reproduce the innards of the spent reactor in precise 3-D CAD. With a few quick keystrokes, the hum of distant machinery could be heard as the automated production line whirred to life and began to reconstruct a replacement reactor housing. The Chief nodded in agreement to Karl's suggestion that it would be best to rebuild the entire reactor rather than install fresh fuel into a weakened and spent shell. He then put the shell inside the same lead-lined container that the spent fuel was, which then disappeared down a conveyor. Once out of sight and local radiation levels well within the safe range, both SPARTAN and technician gratefully removed the smoldering hot hoods of their radiation suits.

Feeling a presence behind him, both individuals turned, and were greeted by the image of Star Captain Meghan Buckler standing in the doorway of the shop. She wrinkled her nose slightly at the sight of the Technician, who at that moment found a reason to excuse himself. She kept the look up long enough for him to pass out of sight, and when she turned back to the Chief, a smile had already crossed her face.

"Having fun with your toys, quiaff?" She remarked, motioning toward the inert MJOLNIR suit, that now looked close to factory fresh. Her voice was lighter, friendly even. The Chief could tell that she was trying to be polite and open, but he still could not understand her distaste of the technician.

"Work is progressing, yes....aff" he replied. The Chief had learned some of thew new grammar that was unique in the Clans. After a moment he continued, "we hope to have everything up to spec by the end of the week, perhaps sooner. Technician Karl does good work and is exceptionally skilled."

She shook her head at the obvious attempt at praise for the absent tech. "As well he should be. He knows that if he were to produce sub-standard results that there would be dire consequences." She said the last part almost matter-of-factly. The Clan culture was as alien to the Chief as the Covenant ever was. Warriors received the worship and praise, and the entire clan community as a whole worked for the betterment of the warrior caste.

It was a cross between the feudal system of ancient earth, and the socialist system. There was enough discontent in the Clans lower-castes that not everyone was happy with the system, and indeed Clan Wolverine overall was the most democratic of all the Clans, having publicly elected offices and appointments in the other castes. Even the Khan herself was dissatisfied with the system, having long argued in the Clan Council Halls that if the Clans were to preserve the ideals of the Star League, then they should govern like the Star League. Some had taken to this ideal strongly, others like Meghan Buckler were in the middle, but the majority such as Star Commander Ebon felt that a new system of government was needed.

"My elemental point is doing hand-to-hand combat exercises today, I would appreciate your participation."

John visibly smiled at the prospect to burn off some stress and to increase his reputation aboard ship. The Chief had been participating in the daily training with the Star Captain's point since the incident in the mess hall, the Chief felt it was hardly a coincidence. At first they had treated him with the same cold indifference that he had expected from most of the warrior caste.

They had run drills from CQB combat, sparring, rigorous calisthenics and weight training. Consistently the Chief was ahead of them, although not by much. The point's spirit was strong, and although they pushed hard, he pushed harder, and had earned their grudging respect. Also a few single-combat matches on the sparring mat had something to do with it, again ending very abruptly with the elementals usually favoring one limb after their brief tussle with the Chief. _They would have made impressive SPARTANS _the Chief had thought after one particularly grueling day of training. By contrast the Star Captain felt the Chief would make an impressive Elemental.

He followed the Star Captain out of the workshop and entered the warrior's living quarters. Another change in the past week was John's rotation of quarters. It was a far improvement over his previous pad, being much more spacious with a porthole to look out into space with, and even had a computer terminal with access to the Clan's vast information network. Usually such arrangements were only awarded to those of Star Commander and higher, but the Khan had awarded the Chief the quarters as ransom and repayment for the insult he received at the hand of Star Commander Ebon. In fact, these quarters used to belong to the Star Commander, who for the immediate future would be residing in Medical Wing 2B.

The Chief had stayed up several nights reading and absorbing what he could from the onboard network, but kept his searches limited. He had no doubt that he was still under surveillance. He changed quickly into the farmer-john style workout suit, and made his way to the gymnasium.

Upon arriving the entire point had already assembled in a semicircle before the Star Captain, who wore a leotard version of the suit he wore. A few other elementals and mechwarriors were already in the gym, making use of the various exercise equipment and open space for training.

The Chief approached the point, but was stopped by the Star Captain before he could join the semicircle. "Apparently, since our reigning champion here," she motioned to the Chief, "has beaten every one of you in a one-on-one circle, sometimes repeatedly," she motioned toward Miles, the Point's second in command. He had taken on the Chief no less than five separate times, and had been soundly introduced to the deck of the _Supernova_ no less than five times.

He smiled slightly as the Point laughed, but it was good-natured. There was no shame or dishonor to losing to a worthy opponent, and the Chief was very much worthy. Star Commander Ebon's point was reaping holy hell from the crew due to the fact they had been dishonorable in not only attacking the Chief outright against orders, but that they had been defeated when the odds were better than 1 to 1.

The Star Captain continued, "so it is with no other choice that I must dutifully demonstrate how an elemental fights." She turned to John and assumed a combat stance. The Chief was only mildly surprised, having long expected that she would challenge him, they only question being time.

He squared off as well, the two circling the other in the small ring Meghan's point and a few other onlookers had formed. She smiled viciously, a feral gleam in her eye. The Chief was completely impassive by comparison. What ensued next was best described by Miles as, "a clash of the Titans" as both Elemental and SPARTAN charged headfirst into the field of combat.....

_Two hours later......_

"Bruised ribs, a torn Achilles tendon, and a sprained wrist." Meghan sat on the lone diagnostic table in sickbay while the Doctor read off the list of injuries that the Star Captain had received. The melee had gone on for longer than she cared to admit, and had only ended as a draw when her Point's allotted time bracket for the gym had expired.

Outwardly, she didn't look too bad, a few bruises over her bare arms and legs, he hair a frizzled mess, and smiled in smug satisfaction. The Chief sat next to her and smiled back and winced, favoring his right side. when the nurse came into the examination room carrying medical supplies, both Elemental and SPARTAN found themselves groping for ice packs.

_Clan Snow Raven JumpShip _Vindicator¸ _Kerensky Cluster November 2822_

"So, in conclusion, my science team has deduced the body is indeed alien as well as the vessel. We also found what appeared to be a parasitic organism buried in the creature's chest. We successfully contained the organism and it currently lies within a secure vault under armed guard."

A long pause was heard over the private HPG uplink before the recipient of the report responded, "this is to be reported to no one. At this moment all communications with the outside are terminated aboard the _Vindicator_. This is to be classified _above_ TOP SECRET. You will jump to these coordinates and await further instruction, quiaff?" A series of numbers, clearly jump calculations flooded the screen.

"Aff, ilKhan Nicholas Kerensky."


	8. Chapter 7

_Chapter 7_

_JumpShip _Supernova, _Kerensky Cluster, December 2822_

Different beings coped with hyperspace jumps. Some were not affected at all, others skipped the next meal, and some got violently sick. So when the warning klaxon blared that the _Supernova_ was making it's final jump into the Kerensky Cluster, some members of the crew, warriors and worker alike, found themselves running for the nearest sink or latrine.

The Master Chief, fortunately, felt nothing. He had long since become accustomed to hyperspace jumps and space travel, although the K-F principles that the Clan JumpShips operated on were quite different than that of the UNSC. Unlike UNSC vessels which could travel at and beyond relativistic speeds, still traveled in a linear motion, a method of travel where it could take weeks to get between star systems or more. JumpShips behaved more like Covenant vessels and literally folded space and moved from one location to another instantly. It was far more accurate and a much faster way to travel, making cryo sleep practically an obsolete technology.

He had fallen down into a routine aboard the JumpShip with Star Captain Meghan Buckler's Elemental Point. The rose at about 0600 hours in the morning, a solid 2 hours of steady PT of calisthenics and running equaling about 10 kilometers around the vessel. Afterwards they washed up, ate breakfast and dressed for duty.

The Chief, unlike the rest of the Point, did not have an assigned duty station or watch since he was not officially a member of the Clan, so he spent the rest of his mornings and afternoons after the midday meal either working with Technician Karl on his MJOLNIR armor, or continually updating himself with the vast array of information on the ship's network.

The process on refitting and repairing his MJOLNIR suit had gone quite smoothly. The damaged and battle-worn plates of heavy green alloy had been entirely replaced with a ferro-fibrous material that was almost twice as strong but only half the weight, almost akin to replacing iron with titanium, except the plates were already made of titanium.

The micro-fusion reactor providing power to the suit had been completely rebuilt as well, so his suit once-again had a clean and reliable power supply, with enough fuel to last it at least the remainder of the Chief's lifetime, even with heavy and constant use and still have enough left over for another decade or two.

Technician Karl had inquired as to the nature of the more exotic systems of the suit, namely the shield generators and the crystalline mesh embedded deeply in the suit's material which contained Cortana's data matrix.

The Clans did have shielding technology, but it was nowhere near as refined as the unit in the MJOLNIR suit. They had shielding technology for DropShips and also for large structures like a palace, but they required massive amounts of energy to operate. In the case of emplacement defense it required and off-site generator the size of a small power plant, and for DropShips all other functions had to be completely disabled and all power routed to the shields.

When the Chief explained, after much prodding by the Tech, the nature of the device, Karl was awed but dared not try and remove the device for analysis. Its construction was far more advanced and exotic than anything the Clan had ever seen, and he did not want to risk damaging our outright destroying the only known working model of such a function. The Chief had been very defensive about any future questions over his armor's function after that, not wanting to reveal other secrets just yet.

In a private conversation with the Star Captain, he had revealed the fact that he had an artificial intelligence as a companion, and that he would need a dedicated holotank, the Clan's equivalent for a supercomputer, if they were to ever see or use Cortana out of his MJOLNIR suit. At first she was as skeptical as the technician, but after being granted a few moments in the _Supernova's _holotank and an eight foot high render of Cortana berating the Star Captain for her lack of belief, they quickly believed the Chief.

All of this activity was reported to Khan Sarah McEvedy directly per her previous standing orders. She was even more amazed at this Master Chief, his hand to hand combat prowess already the thing of legend aboard the _Supernova_. Still, she made no move to force, coax or even seduce the information the Chief had out of him. One thing could be said for the Khan, and that was she had a moral compass, and she checked it regularly and it never, ever deviated.

Now they had arrived at Strana Mechty, the homeworld of the Clans. The _Supernova _would be laid up in drydock for a few months to repair the damage done to the hull, while the entire crew was sworn to secrecy on the true nature of the incident, which publicly was attested to a meteoroid impact. The remains of _Forward Into Dawn_ were actually aboard another Wolverine JumpShip, _Invincible_, and was taken to Circe, the Wolverine occupied Pentagon World and capital where it could be studied and analyzed more closely. The Chief would be joining the recovery crew soon as well as Meghan and her Point, but the only shipyards capable of repairing the damage to the _Supernova_ were in orbit of Strana Mechty.

Not only that, but the Khan had decided that if this John-117 were to continue to operate as a member of the warrior caste, that he should be test out as a member of the warrior caste in a Trial of Position. When Clan warrior come of age, traditionally their 20th year, they would be tested in combat against other warriors. If they were victorious, the Clan would be bettered by having a new, competent warrior. If they failed, rarely was the combat fatal, but it did happen. Those that survived did not normally get a chance to retest, and were oftentimes allocated to the lower castes. Sometimes they might be requisitioned by second line or garrison units, but that was rare, and by general consensus, a crap assignment with no real opportunity for moving up or on.

She had briefed Meghan personally, and made it emphatically clear that the Chief must be ready to test in six months or less. The whirlwind was coming and Wolverine had to be ready. The Jade Falcons were making a push for power, cries of foul over Operation Klondike were becoming predominant in Council Meetings, and ilKhan Kerensky, instead of trying to curb the violence, seemed more interested in focusing the other Clan's aggression against Wolverine.

The Star Captain had merely smiled back and responded that if he was not ready in four months, then he never would be.


	9. Chapter 8

_Chapter 8_

_Clan Wolverine Training Grounds, Circe, February 2822_

Star Captain Meghan Buckler went sailing through the air and landed with a _THUMP_ hard against the ground. Rolling to her side to avoid a potential follow-up blow, she launched herself back at the hulking form of SPARTAN John-117, who's wrist throw had sent her airborne mere seconds before.

The Chief knew she would recover quickly and charge right back at him, Elementals were very hardy soldiers whose bodies could take punishment that rivaled that of any SPARTAN that he knew. The Chief fell into a defensive posture, but right before the Star Captain could reach him, he felt massive hands clamp down on his shoulders.

_Miles! _The Chief mentally snapped. The Elemental Point's second in command had been bested by John in almost every hand-to-hand encounter, and had been looking for the opportunity to defeat the Chief. He had come close a number of times, and John shared his fair amount of bumps, bruises and achy muscles to attest to the combat prowess of the Elemental point.

Using a sweeping foot move, the Chief was able to hook part of the Elemental's leg and halfway push him off, but not before Meghan Buckler could ram him dead-on at a full charge. The Chief was knocked clear off his feet and had the wind knocked out of him, going down as a heap. Triumphantly, Meghan loomed over him, a smug grin on her face.

"Had enough, quiaff?" She gloated. The Chief eyed the sidelines of the open meadow that they had been practicing in. Except for her and Miles, the other three members of the Point had been sufficiently pasted by the Chief in what had started as a 5 on 1 match, and all sat back on their haunches at the edge of the ring. Most just panted heavily, but a few favored certain parts of their body.

The Chief looked back up, and allowed himself a grin. "Yeah, I've had enough." Meghan scowled at his use of a contraction and his failure to use the expected response of _aff _ or _neg_ to indicate his intention. The slight distraction was all the opportunity that John needed. One foot-sweep and pinned move later, Meghan again found that her mouth was making out with the dirt.

Meghan tapped the ground three times, signaling the end of the match. He smiled and offered his hand, which after a moment she graciously took and helped herself to her feet, bits of leaves and grass entangled in her wild black hair.

"Excellent practice everyone. It is now 1800 hours and Friday. I have managed to secure weekend liberty for the entire Point, so I do not want to see you back on base until 2230 hours on Sunday. You are all dismissed!" As one the Point went into hoo-rahs and various war cries, a tradition to build camaraderie in the tightly knit unit. They fought as a family, lived as a family, and died as a family. The Chief felt blessed to be considered an honorary member of the elite and tightly-knit group, they reminded him so much of his fellow SPARTANS.

Meghan Buckler was the obvious leader, having seen the most battles as well as being a veteran of numerous battles. God she moved fast and was quiet. She had gotten the drop on the Chief more than once during nighttime training operations in a very advanced version of the game of capture the flag. The Chief was utterly convinced that she must be somehow related to Kelly-087 in this universe somehow.

Miles was the second in command. A younger Elemental who only freshly cut his teeth at a Trial of Position a couple years prior, he has been the _ristar _of the Point. _Ristar_, John learned, was another example of Clan language referring to an unnaturally gifted and talented warrior who was expected to go on to great things, hence being the rising star. He had been nominated to participate in the next trial of Bloodnames for the House of Hallis, and had been training extraordinarily hard for the opportunity. He reminded the Chief so much of Frederic-104. Always in second but could be first if he really wanted, John had no doubt that he Miles wanted it.

Having a surname in Clan society was considered perhaps the greatest honor a warrior could know. Bloodnames traced their roots back to the times of the first and second Exodus, when General Alexandr Kerensky led the Star League Defense forces from the Inner Sphere and into the Periphery to start their lives anew. Obviously he could not establish a society that was nothing but warriors. Every society needed its doctors, technicians, merchants, cooks, and yes, even janitors. To determine who would stay a warrior, there were various trials, and those that succeeded would remain warriors. This is where and how the Clan tradition of trials by combat came from.

Of those who continued as warriors, the 800 that remained loyal to Alexandr's son Nicholas during the 2nd Exodus from the Pentagon Worlds to the Kerensky Cluster, they were further honored by having their names forever written in _The Remembrance_, the Clan's ongoing poetic history. Furthermore, since the Clans as a whole did not allow surnames, warriors could compete to earn the right to have the surname of one of the 800 who followed Nicholas. Some surnames were exclusive, such as Kerensky's belonging to Clan Wolf, or Osis to the Smoke Jaguars, others were generic. Clan law dictated that no more than 25 warriors could have the same bloodname at any time. The high-motivation for getting a bloodname was not only the fact that any warrior possessing one would be on the fast-track to command, but also they earned the right to donate their DNA to be used in future generations of the Clan Eugenics Program. It was Darwin's theory at the highest level.

There were only three remaining members of the point, Kyle, Yelena, Franco, and Galen. Yelena was the only other female in the group. Like Meghan, she had darker, honey colored skin and jet black hair, and who talked with a strong commanding voice much like Miranda Keyes. A bit of a flirt, even for an elemental, she moved with a sensual grace that contrasted sharply with Meghan's direct approach. Gifted with steady hands, she was the team's designated sharpshooter and marksman, and the Chief had more than one very humbling experience at the rifle range thanks to Yelena.

She had at one point been so impressed by the Chief's hand-to-hand combat that she had invited him back to her quarters one late night. While John certainly found that she was attractive, he had no real desire for her and had politely refused the offer. The two of them had kept a friendly and professional attitude afterwards, although she still whomped him on occasion at the rifle range, he always returned the favor in full by having her get close and personal with the training mat.

The invite to Yelena's quarters had actually been a bit of a shock to the Chief. He and his fellow SPARTANS had never been intimate, thanks largely to a lack of a sexual drive due to his augmentations, a side effect of the platinum pellet. In fact, with the exception of perhaps Maria-062 intimacy was probably the one battlefield that SPARTANS had never set foot on.

By contrast the Clans did not allow natural childbirth, at least in the newer generations of the warrior caste, and personal relationships were very much discouraged, if not outright forbidden. Having one's sense of judgment impaired due to a relationship with someone on the battlefield was a jeopardy.

However, as far as intimate encounters were concerned, it was very much understood that warriors were human and coupling was to be expected and condoned, but it lacked the emotional connection and baggage that traditional society had. Love, at least as it applied to the Clans, could be more closely compared to _esprit de corps_ just in a much stronger sense. In the Chief's small world of the Point, it was becoming more and more clear to him that the Star Captain had the hots for him, but he did not want to dwell on issues that were not related to battle.

The remaining two members of the point, Franco and Galen were like a family within a family. Franco was the demolition expert for the team, and just loved to set things afire and explode. His wild side closely mirrored that of his chosen drinks, and had sent more than one potential challenger to the deck in a drunken pile during the last off-base Liberty. Galen as well as Kyle were the team experts on CQB, and the duo in conjunction with Franco's door and wall breaching explosives, could clear a structure faster than any five quick response teams the Chief had ever known. He had little doubt that the three would be holding another drinking contest at _The Wild, Wild West_ being the local hole in the wall pub right off base.

John's main focus had been preparing him for his upcoming Trial of Position in the Clan. Word was that Star Commander Greg Ebon, the Elemental who had assaulted the Chief, and whom the Chief had put in the infirmary, was out and had a mark on John. The rumor continued that it would be Greg and his Point that the Chief would have to face and defeat in his Trial, and it was clear that Greg was looking to put an end to the Chief. Turning back to his newfound family and brothers and sisters in arms, though, he allowed himself a smile. _Worry is for another day. I am here now with my new family, we are here, we are alive, and we all intend to stay that way_. Walking next to the Star Captain, the pair followed the Point off the field and marched toward home.

_Snow Raven Maximum Security Medical Facility, Location: Classified_

The flood infection form floated helplessly in the suspended pool of liquid, a long syringe penetrating the infection form and sucking out a small sample. The vial returned to the owner, a chemsuit clad scientist, who took the sample over to a large computer, slid the vial into the repository on the desk, and with a few quick keystrokes, text began to scroll across the screen:

_DNA ANALYSIS STARTED............._


	10. Chapter 9

_Chapter 9_

The Wild, Wild West_ bar, Circe, February 2822_

"one, two, three.....go!"

Hoots and hollers surrounded the Master Chief and Elemental Franco as the two faced off in the mortal battle of arm wrestling. Beads of sweat popped out from their faces due to the heat from the swarming crowd, teeth gritted and muscles bulged on both sides of the table, and the onlookers only cheered louder.

In the background the Chief could see credits of some kind being passed between the spectators, but he kept his focus on his opponent. He had already put down Miles and Galen, although he was starting to tire and could feel it, but he hardly could decline a challenge, especially when the winner would be taking home the already sizeable pot and drinks on the loser.

Franco had an arm that John swore was made of steel and budged about as much. On the other side of the table, Franco was absolutely certain that the Master Chief was built of titanium, and began to groan and heave as his arm slowly started to tip in the opposite direction that he was intending.

In the background Meghan Buckler smiled appreciatively at the scene. She really had taken a liking to the SPARTAN and felt it was good to see him get out and have some fun with the Point. She understood all too well that John was a career soldier, born and raised for one purpose, but like the Elementals, he was still fundamentally human. All the training in the world would never change that, and having the opportunity to steal some R&R was something that she felt was only a good thing.

Maybe it was the alcohol, or her respect of his desire to always win, or it was the Chief's damn good looks in the slightly dimmed light of the hole in the wall bar that they were in, or maybe a combination of all three but she had to admit he was looking better and better by the second. _Get a grip Meghan_, she thought, shaking her head and mentally mocking herself.

Sure, the stranger was attractive...and strong...and fearless...and brave...and honest...and loyal....and_ dammit Meghan cool your jumpjets!_ Hearing a renewed source of cheering, she looked back to see that John had indeed put Franco's hand decisively to the table, and was sporting perhaps the most self-pleasing grin she had ever seen on a man. _He is getting a cocky edge too, aff. I could get used to...stravag, enough!_

The Chief smiled at Franco and the two clasped hands in a symbol of mutual respect, while Yelena came forward and placed down a rather large stein of some kind of dark, frothy brew. It was obvious to the Chief, Meghan, and indeed the rest of the patrons that she already had a good head start from the almost predatorial look and the way she leant down to pass the beer to John.

Meghan felt another pang of emotion, not quite jealousy or envy, but along those lines, and approached the table from the opposite side wearing a smile, but her eyes were like plasma bolts. Yelena looked up at her Star Captain and could tell that she was making a possessive gesture in regards to the Chief, and while Yelena had been politely rejected from making advances, ultimately girls would be girls, and boys would be boys.

An almost telepathic connection was made between the two in regards to the territorial rights of a certain SPARTAN, and the two almost as one pushed Franco and John out of their seats as the two took their places, locking their hands in a grip so tight it could have crushed diamond.

The Chief in fact _had_ been showing off, but not for the intention of attracting any additional company, but along the same reasons why he always pushed himself so hard among these Clan warriors. _I am being constantly tested, and I must always be ready to meet any challenge, even one of a friendly nature _he thought as he vacated his seat, beer still in hand. The Clan lifestyle based on the warrior society, survival of the fittest and Darwinism at its best left no place for 2nd place except to be the first loser.

The hooting and hollering began anew and with renewed fervor as the testosterone-driven crowd cheered on the two amazon-like women, which the Chief watched with interest, although he did not get into the cheering and whooping of the crowd.

Meghan snarled in effort against Yelena, the alcohol that the latter consumed giving her a bit of an extra wind. Yelena merely smiled confidently back, and even had the audacity to blow a kiss to the crowd, although it was aimed at a certain member of the crowd in particular. John noticed the kiss, and revelation dawned on the SPARTAN just what exactly the hidden wager between the two females was, and found himself strangely feeling flattered, insulted, intrigued, and anxious all at the same time.

Their hands inched back and forth like a metronome on steroids, both leaning in to get extra leverage against their opponent, although the arms began to slowly and precariously tip against the favor of Star Captain Meghan Buckler. Yelena, seeing her opportunity, attacked with fresh resolve, her arm moving slowly but surely towards the opposite end of the table.

Meghan looked up at Yelena, not wanting to show her opponent that she was ready to yield to defeat just yet. Instead her eyes locked on John's, and the two shared a connection for a moment as well. Nothing was said, but the Chief gave a slight smile, and nodded his head towards the opposite end of the table, indicating subtly where he wanted this match to go.

Feeling almost as if her muscles had just doubled in strength instantly, the slow pace towards her side of the table stopped. Yelena's smile ceased and took on a look of agitation, and then perhaps even a bit of panic as she found herself struggling to keep her knuckles from hitting the other side of the table. She failed spectacularly after a redoubled effort by Meghan put her out of her misery, and coincidentally out of any potential claim to the SPARTAN. She looked slightly crestfallen, but after another large swing from her massive stein, another goofy smile had crossed Yelena's face, her recent loss almost completely forgotten.

Meghan massaged her arm and wormed her way through the packed crowd around the table as Miles and Galen sat down to test their mettle against one another. _Never a dull moment is there_ she thought while she worked sought out her target.

_Well, I've gone and done it now_, thought John as he watched the Star Captain work to a spot next to him at the bar. At first nothing was said even after he passed her a rather large stein of the same, bitter beer he had been drinking. _If you didn't want company, you should have interfered_ one voice told him, but another said _it wasn't about companionship, it was about encouraging your comrades....ah hell who am I kidding?! It was totally about making a choice._

The Chief spoke first, "that was quite a show of strength you did just there." _Keep it diplomatic, too bad diplomacy's not my style or my forte_.

_He is nervous, he is holding back. An opportunity, quaff? Perhaps._ "I appreciate your encouragement, it was...uplifting to have you in my corner," she responded back, not wanting to be too direct. John did not know what to say to this, he really could not justify picking one member over the other, the fact was he liked the girl. He simply smiled back and nodded.

"Let us take a walk, quiaff?" Meghan downed the last contents of her stein in one large chug and headed towards the door. _That was not a question, by the way, that was an order_ was the look she gave him as she walked past.

_Awh, hell, might as well get this over with_, thought John as he similarly downed the contents of his mug and headed outside as well. It was dark out, despite Circe having multiple moons during this time of year they did not crest until much, much later and for most of the night the stars were absolutely brilliant. Fortunately, his keen eyesight allowed him to see quite well even in the lowlight conditions, so when Meghan Buckler came around a dark corner and planted a wet one right one John's lips, he at least had the advantage of seeing it coming, although he did not make any move to reciprocate, at least until she broke her face from his.

John took a step back and raised his hands, signaling his desire to slow down. Meghan, on the other half, looked like a mixture of anger and disappointment. She spoke first, "Is there a problem, SPARTAN, have you never been kissed by a woman before, quineg?" She eyed him dubiously, _of course he has, someone built like that would have the pick of the litter. By Kerensky if only he had a Bloodname, what he could give our eugenics........_her train of though was broken by the sight of him shaking his head in a negative fashion.

"Neg, I have not, no," he deadpanned. Any source of emotion completely gone from his face, and his voice dipping back into the unnaturally deep tones that she found so attractive. "I am tired, by your leave ma'am, I will see you at drill at 0600 Monday." The Chief turned to walk back toward the base, apparently thinking the conversation over. For Meghan, it had hardly begun as she ran around in front of him and blocked his way, complete disbelief on her face.

"You mean that you're telling me that you've never been with anyone before?" Meghan's voice took on an almost critical tone, all the while completely forgetting about the use of contractions. The SPARTAN stopped, opened his mouth to say something, thought better of it, and kept walking.

"They did something to you, didn't they? Something that changed you? Not just your little chip at the base of your neck, or even your physical enhancements." She continued paced with the Chief who remained impassively silent for a moment longer, before finally resigning himself with a sigh.

They walked back to his quarters on base, and surprisingly, the Chief allowed Meghan entrance. They sat down on the couch, and John for the first time that the Star Captain could remember, appeared nervous, fidgeting with his hands. She waited expectantly, knowing he would tell her when he was ready, and that John did.

He related everything during the augmentation process. The incredible pain, the crippling disabling pain, his suppressed sexual drive, everything. The fact that more than half of his fellow SPARTANS died and almost a quarter being crippled and disabled beyond measure. Images that still haunted him to this day, how he felt he was one of the lucky ones, but would have traded his life in an instant for any one of his fellow SPARTANS.

He went into detail on his feelings about the difference between a life used, and a life wasted, something that CPO Mendez, his drill instructor, had professed to him, and during the augmentation process, part of John died and was crippled with half of his fellow SPARTANS on that fateful day. He never forgot how the CPO failed to meet his look when he had asked him if he thought if the lives were used or wasted.

Meghan, for her part, wisely kept her mouth shut and listened with the compassion that went beyond simple friends. When the Chief had finally finished, she moved to sit next to him. He still fidgeted slightly with his hands, but she rested hers on top of his, warmth moving from one to the others. She still desired him, but her purpose took on a much stronger turn, she realized he needed someone that understood him, and she did. She leaned in and kissed him on the cheek, gently at first, and turned his chin toward hers.

"Their lives were certainly not wasted, and this guilt you carry is not warranted because it was not your fault. Here, let me help you find a bit of what you lost, and show you that you do have a home in the Wolverine Clan."

The lights went dark in John's room and he discovered much about himself with Meghan that evening, and they discovered long, long into the night.


	11. Chapter 10

_Chapter 10_

_Clan Wolverine Training Grounds, Circe, April 2822_

Targets popped up left and right, holographic simulations of opponents appeared all around the Chief as he ran the assault course, but as quickly as they appeared, they vanished under a hail of gunfire from his assault rifle. Continuing to methodically clear the rooms and areas on the course, he noted that both his time and accuracy were lower than usual, probably due to the distraction of the conversation he was having with Cortana in his head.

"So you're telling me in the past two months that I've been cooped up in your suit that not only are you on the eve of testing out and becoming a full-fledged member of the Clan and going native, but also you've found yourself a girlfriend?" Her tone could barely betray an edge of skepticism and perhaps a twang of surprise.

The Chief merely shook his head and groaned, thankful that the MJOLNIR helmet encasing his head hid the slightly irritated look on his face. The suit had been finished almost a week prior, a complete overhaul, and in fact some ways was even enhanced due to the nonstop effort of Chief Technician Karl. All of the armored plates on the suit had been completely remolded and replaced with ferro-fibrous armor, a much lighter and considerably stronger alloy that was used in the Clan's most advanced battlemechs. The redesigned and improved fusion engine provided almost 150% more power than the original, enough of a surplus that his shields could natively charge themselves to overshield levels, and took a proportionately lower amount of time to regenerate.

Some of the more sensitive joints on the suit that had to cope with considerable force and stress had also been augmented with additional myomer "muscle" to add greater strength and power to the suit, namely in the knees, ankles, wrists and elbows. While the MJOLNIR suit relied on a reactive liquid crystal mesh that responded to electrical impulses, the myomer cable was the Clan's equivalent and was used in battlemechs and armored suits to provide mobility. While it lacked the speed and fine manipulation that the crystalline mesh his suit provided, it was notably more powerful, and augmenting the crystalline mesh with extra muscle allowed him the advantages of both, and the weaknesses of either.

Overall by replacing the armored plates they had shaved almost 300 pounds of weight off the half-ton suit, and the additional power from the myomer and reactor increased his burst speed to almost 84kph at a dead run, with sustained speeds of 64kph over a 15 mile stretch. He could now lift comfortably almost three metric tons of weight, strength that had he been fighting Brutes, he had no doubt that he could literally decapitate them bare-handed.

All of this was for nothing, however, if one did not have a good warrior to exploit every advantage of the new suit, and he fully intended to. He was impressed, and the Point had collectively come to the conclusion that should he and God ever come to the same battlefield, God would probably go home crying.

"She's not my girlfriend," came his deadpanned, flat response as he flicked the assault rifle to fully automatic and emptied the contents of the clip into a series of targets.

Cortana gave a little giggle, "so just friends with benefits then, is that it?" Mentally, the Chief could picture her blue avatar swaggering with a smug expression on her face.

In truth, he really did not know what Meghan Buckler was to him. She was the head of the Point, and while he was at the moment an honorary member, she was not really his superior, at least not yet. Did he have feelings for her? Yes, he did. Did she have feelings for him? As a friend and a comrade in arms, most definitely, but did they share love? They were lovers, and the battles on that particular field of combat was just as pitched and intense as any other ten operations the Chief had participated in, but he really didn't know where passion and desire stopped, and true emotions began.

He could hardly picture himself in bed with any of his fellow SPARTANS like Linda or Kelly, although in a particularly fond memory before they were augmented, they did spend a rather interesting evening of playing a game of truth or dare and spin the bottle which resulted in some very interesting and awkward makeouts, but nothing that came to fruition.

He shook his head, "this is crazy-talk Cortana," as he slammed another magazine into his assault rifle. SPARTANS were bred for war, and so were Elementals. Settling down, starting a family, raising kids, dirt farming? The image was almost too ridiculous to picture, and yet, there was an undeniable allure to it.

Further contemplation into that line of discussion was squashed during a door breach and another half-dozen targets thoroughly ventilated. Cortana gave a vocal huff, "well I hope she was any good," she teased.

"Cortana, we are not having this conversation right now! We are in the middle of a combat simulation, you're distracting me!" A hurled frag grenade exploded in one of the small adjacent rooms, accentuating the point he was making.

She merely gave another giggle, "must have been if she's distracting a SPARTAN from battle. I want details," refusing to drop the issue.

"I mean it, enough!" With that, he actually punched clear through the reinforced concrete rebar wall, planting another grenade among a midst of targets, saving him the detour around to the entrance into the final room. The last explosion was like a cannon in his head, but the target counter indicated "0" opponents remaining and the timer stopped.

"Point taken," was her only response at the sight of the massive hole in the solid concrete wall. A klaxon sounded, indicating the end of the training run, the Chief automatically making his weapon safe by ejecting the magazine along with opening and clearing the breech.

Walking out of the assault course, he was greeted by the Franco and Galen, the Point's CQB specialists. Ushering John off to a series of monitors to show him the results of his run, Meghan Buckler stood back and watched. She smiled as the Chief nodded appreciatively to the constructive advice he was being given by the two specialists. While he certainly was just as well-trained as any other member of her Elemental Point, having an outside observer give feedback was the only way to improve.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the sounds of the door to her side opening, and her blood simultaneously boiled and chilled at the sight of the new guest, Star Commander Greg Ebon. He sported a series of scars from the facial reconstruction surgery from the very one-sided altercation he had with the Chief a few months back, and even then he was lucky that the Chief hadn't outright killed him. The scars made him appear almost as if he was constantly smirking or scowling, but even without them she had no doubt about he was there to talk about.

"Greetings Star Captain," was his opening statement. "I see that your little pet has been allowed out of his pen to play. I hear that he has made quite an impression around you." He paused for a moment to eye her up and down, Meghan Buckler narrowing her eyes in a response to the jab.

A deep throaty chuckle came from the Star Commander. "A real shame since tomorrow, my Point and I will be euthanizing him. I hope that you have another pet in mind, not to mention a sorry excuse for the wasted time and resources in training it."

Megan for her part maintained her cool, and allowed a smug grin across her own face, a grin that indicated her desire to kill. "Ebon, other than to try and shore up what little courage and face you have left, did you have a reason to be here, or did you want the Chief to paste you now so that you have an excuse to cower out of the Trial?"

"No, just buttering you up now so that when he fails it will be even more sweet. We both know, one way or another, he will not succeed. No stravag freebirth, no matter how well trained or well-equipped, will ever be admitted. I have seen to it." With that, he turned and left, Meghan turning darker. The Chief, sensing the traded volleys, sidled up to Meghan. The two locked eyes for a moment, and shared an almost telepathic connection before jointly turning and walking out.

Not a word was spoken on the long walk from the assault course back to the residential sector of the base. Cortana broke the silence on the externals speakers of the MJOLNIR suit, "that was Ebon, the one you told me about, wasn't it, I mean quiaff?" The Star Captain's face twisted slightly at the botched language but let it slide.

"Aff, it was him," not turning to face the Chief or Cortana.

"I am surprised that considering what the Chief did to him a few months ago even when he had the drop on the Chief and was outnumbered that he would still be willing to face him." The Chief kept silent but also wondered what delusions the Star Commander held, or beliefs so deep that he would be willing to have another round, even though this time the Chief would be fully armed and armored.

"Neg, it is simply our way. Warriors do not cede defeat easily or are turned from opinions due to what one may consider a chance occurrence. In fact, fighting and indeed sacrificing your life for one's cause is viewed as perhaps the greatest and noblest act of all."

It suddenly started to make sense to the Chief, and he spoke next. "We are boxed in either way this comes out. I die, and it only further reinforces the superiority complex and example for the trueborns and those of the crusader faction. I win, Ebon becomes a martyr and rallying cry for the crusaders, is that about right quiaff?"

"Aff, John, that would about be it." Her shoulders sagged slightly at the admission that the situation was less than ideal.

Arriving at John's quarters, Meghan waited at the door to see whether she would be allowed in. The Chief opened the door and allowed her admittance, his heavy armor looking almost out of place in the small ground-floor apartment he had been granted on the base.

Moving to a specially equipped room and locker, John began removing the various pieces of heavy armor and placing them inside the heavy safe which normally would hold Clan infantry battle suits. Meghan respected his privacy at the moment, not wanting to be imposing too much. John emerged later wearing a loose-fitting set of sweatgear, looking forlorn and tired, favoring a shoulder.

She motioned for him to sit next to her on the sofa, which he did, and her powerful, massive hands dug into his neck and back. The Chief let out an appreciative sigh, thankful that for once he did not have to hold _all_ the tensions for once, but he could not quite seem to let go of tomorrow.

"He is going to cheat tomorrow, John. The Crusaders have set it up, I am completely sure of that. You have to be ready, expect the unexpected, and hold nothing back."

John merely grunted an acknowledgement, not wanting to think about his Trial. It would be a simple mission, him against Ebon and two other members of Ebon's Point. Rules? Kill or be killed. Deep down though, he felt it was a waste. Even though Ebon was a narrow-minded supremacist he was one of the Clans more formidable warriors and capable Elemental Star Commander. It would be a waste to kill him, but if he desired to make himself an enemy of the Chief, he would not hesitate at the slightest to eliminate the possible menace.

Closing his eyes and not desiring to think about that particular battlefield, he leaned back against Meghan who cradled him gently, hoping to unwind for a little while. Relaxation would not be the order for the evening as Meghan reached behind her to kill the lights, and a little while later he found himself fighting a much more pitched battle on a very different field.

_Snow Raven Maximum Security Medical Facility, Location: Classified_

The flood infection form continually bounced in and around the small tube it was confined in. To most observers, it appeared the flood spore was like an insect trying to fly through a closed window to get outside. To the more observant, they would notice the hairline crack that was forming in the clear material............


	12. Chapter 11

_Chapter 11_

_Clan Wolverine Training Grounds, Circe, April 2822_

Chief Technician Karl went over the supplies and ordinance for the fifth time in the morning, ensuring that everything was present right down to the last round. In front of him lay the Chief's massive MA5C assault rifle along with several hundred rounds of ammunition. A few other weapons were laid out on the table, including a M6D magnum pistol, two M7 submachine guns, a half-dozen frag grenades, and a SPNKR rocket launcher with several loaded magazine tubes.

For the trial today, John would be engaging an undersized Elemental Point of three elementals sporting small lasers and short range missile (SRM) launchers. There also would be a LCT-1S _Locust _battlemech on the field as well. The _Locust_ was probably the most common mech ever in existence. Weighing in at a mere 20 tons, it was the lightest of the light, but was extremely fast topping speeds of over 160kph at a dead sprint.

While lightly armored, the single medium laser and SRMs made it a real threat to anything that was not a mech. The medium laser could sufficiently hole anything that was not heavily armored and packed the equivalent punch of the SPARTAN laser, although it had a far greater range and could cycle about twice as fast for firing.

The SRM's were his biggest worry. Instead of carrying the standard AP/HE Armor-piercing/high-explosive warheads that could penetrate several inches of steel plate armor, it was loaded with Inferno SRMs. Inferno's instead carried a warhead that upon impact, splattered a gel that burned at several thousand degrees Celsius. The rounds were designed to overheat and shut down an enemy mech, but the heat could also melt and warp armor which could be absolutely crippling if joints such as hips or knees could be hit. When used against infantry......the Master Technician visibly shuddered at the thought.

Perhaps he was so engrossed in his work that he did not notice the shadowy that approached behind him, bringing down a well-placed blow to the back of Karl's neck, and his entire world went black. The shadowy figure turned and faced the table of ordinance laid out before him, and what might have been a maniacal chuckle echoed through the small armory...........

_Clan Wolverine Warrior's Quarters_

"It is time, John," a deep, sensual voice pierced the mind of John-117. The Master Chief slowly became aware of his surroundings in the bedroom that he lay, a hazy mist slowly clearing in his mind. He wasn't alone either, feeling a warm body pressed up against him. Opening his eyes, he found himself staring into the emerald eyes of Star Captain Meghan Buckler, smiling down at him as she played with his chest hair and caressed his head.

He let out a groan, feeling as if he hadn't gotten enough sleep the night before. In truth, he did get eight hours altogether, but it had been punctuated by periods of....interruption.

Heaving himself to his feet, he donned a pair of mesh shorts and made a straight line for the shower, but not before hitting the "ON" switch for the coffee machine.

Meghan watched him go, admiring his strong muscular form, as sculpted as any Elemental she knew. He had strong features and a strong jaw, yet eyes that appeared sad, remorseful, and she understood why. He carried such a burden from his past, the responsibility he felt for his fellow SPARTANS, the burden of being the defender of humankind where he came from, the one that when all hope was lost and everyone just wanted to roll over, he must stay strong. It was a burden that she did not envy in the slightest.

Getting out of bed herself, she pulled on a pair of mesh shorts and a tank top that showed all the right curves in the right places. Walking out into the small combination living area and dinette, she found the John doing some stretches and small exercises to loosen up. She sat on the sofa and watched him, so intent on doing a few small calisthenics, but he stopped after a few moments, stood and met her eyes.

They shared another one of their almost telepathic connections, but neither moved to say anything, at least not immediately. John broke the connection and began to walk into the small side room in his apartment where his armor was stored, and motioned for Meghan to follow him. He stopped outside his armor locker and opened it up, revealing the MJOLNIR suit within, neatly arranged in pieces on the armor rack. He then did something SPARTANS rarely did.

"Would you help me with this?" He inquired to the Star Captain. Meghan's head shot up, the Chief never asked for help for anything, and for him to ask her to assist him in preparing for what could very well be either his final battle, or first of many as a new warrior of the Clan was in a word, deep. She smiled and nodded, walking around him to the armor.

Donning a suit of MJOLNIR armor was more an art form than any appreciative procedure when done with anything less than a full technical crew. The SPARTANS had learned long ago how to do it by themselves, but trying to assemble a half-ton suit was far from an easy task.

The suit broke down into several separate pieces: upper torso, lower torso and groin, thighs, shins, boots, arms, gauntlets and finally the helmet. The lower torso came first, since it granted the wearer a bit of modesty while the rest of the armor was assembled. John slid off the mesh trunks he wore, wearing nothing but his birthday suit in the open room. Fortunately, having long since explored in detail each other's anatomy, and given their respective culture's familiarity in regards to gender, there was no awkwardness as Meghan help him lift up the heavy codpiece that snapped securely around his waist and stopped at the top edges of his thighs.

Next came the legs, which were in three pieces being the thighs, shins and the boots. Since the suit was unpowered, fortunately the joints were completely lax and it was merely a matter of positioning and sliding his legs through the openings on each piece in sequence, then the seals locking closed between each segment. John now sat on a heavy metal stool, dressed waist-down in MJOLNIR armor that already weighed almost 200 pounds.

Next came the heaviest piece of all, the upper torso. The arms and helmet were not attached, so it looked like a giant green vest. John raised his arms above his head while Meghan lifted the immense piece of armor, itself weighing close to 250 lbs alone, and settling it down over the Chief. The chest piece slid down as one, John's arms and head populating through the three openings, and the bottom of the chest piece mating and locking securely to the codpiece.

The rest of the assembly went smoothly, with the only remaining major portion of his armor to be attached were the arms and gauntlets. These pieces, fortunately, were relatively light by comparison, and slid and locked into place without any hiccups. All that remained of John's suit that were out of place was the helmet and gauntlets. Before attaching these, however, the Chief started up the micro-fusion reactor, bringing the entire suit to life.

The reactor ran absolutely silent, the only sensation that anything had changed at all was the sudden realization that he longer felt so heavy and could move freely without hindrance from the suit's massive bulk and weight.

Meghan had remained silent during the entire procedure, only nodding occasionally as John directed her in how and where to attach the various pieces of his suit. Fortunately, Clan battle suits assembled in a fairly similar fashion, although they were not as advanced and lacked his shielding systems. She turned back to the Chief who now stood seven feet tall in the massive suit, his gauntlets in hand. He offered his left hand to her, and she slid the massive gauntlet over him and locked it into place.

Meghan then turned to John's other hand, but as she leaned forward to put it on, he did something else unexpected. He reached up with his bare hand and ever so gently, caressed her cheek. No words were spoken as the two locked eyes again, and as one their lips mashed together in on more passionate embrace. Sometime later the right gauntlet finally found its way on John's hand.

_Clan Wolverine Trial Arena_

The arena was a gigantic square open field almost two kilometers to a side. A twenty foot concrete wall surrounded the perimeter, with two arches on either end of the field to allow admittance from the regular foot-soldier to the largest assault class battlemech. The terrain within the arena was a blasted landscape of rocks and gravel, the occasional small brush growing here and there. More than one scorch mark dotted the landscape as well as the perimeter wall, a testament to the combat which occurred within.

A small crowd of spectators was gathered at the eastern wall behind a second set of barriers to observe the trial. Among the observers were aside from Meghan and her Point, various other warriors, some she recognized, some she did not. Franco and Galen flanked Meghan on either side while Yelena had taken an overwatch position a little further back to blend in with the crowd. Miles was not present, rather he had gone down below to greet the Chief and help him gear up with the appropriate weapons and arms, along with giving him his final briefing on the mission.

The tension in the air was clear, with those of the Crusader mindset generally gathering to one side, and those of the Warden philosophy, more or less the exact opposite. Perhaps the biggest surprise was the guest of honor herself, Khan Sarah McEvedy.

The inclusion of the Khan as an observer to a Trial of Position, especially for that of the Elemental phenotype was a rare. Elementals did not carry the same prestige and respect as a Mechwarrior, and even then a Khan would scarcely ever be an observer for any trial less than that of either Star Colonel or Galaxy Commander.

The Clan warrior caste was divided into three distinct groups: Mechwarriors, Aeropilots and Elementals. In the Clan TO&E structure, the smallest maneuverable unit was one Point, which equated to either one battlemech, three aerospace fighters or five Elementals. After a Point came a Star, made of five Points. The next highest unit would be a binary or trinary, two or three Stars plus supporting personnel and command staff. A Cluster was anywhere from three to five Trinaries, and the largest maneuverable unit was the Galaxy, which consisted of three to five Clusters.

With the Clan emphasis on single combat, Aeropilots and Elementals were lower on the rank structure than Mechwarriors due to the fact that in battle, it would take multiple units of either to match a single battlemech in combat, and as such were not held in as high a stature.

The bias worked two ways, however, since trials were fought entirely one-on-one. As an example an Elemental that defeated a battlemech in combat, something that would be a disproportionately unfair fight, would yield them much greater honor and respect since they were essentially fighting handicapped versus just two Mechwarriors battling on even terms. Unfortunately, this also meant that those of the Aerotechs and Elementals rarely proceeded much higher than Star Captain.

The Khan stood as an observer between the two gathered clusters of observers in an attempt to maintain the neutral balance, although every bone in her body screamed to be on the Warden side, the Khan had to be above such things. Wolverine could not afford to have such a break in ranks at this moment.

_Armory, Clan Wolverine Trial Arena_

"Well, everything checks out, John," came Miles as he reviewed the arms laid out on the worktable, left by the still absent Chief Technician Karl. The Chief had selected for combat his MA5C assault rifle, a single M6D pistol, and the SPNKR rocket launcher along with several frag grenades. Still nestling comfortably in a hidden compartment on his back sat the Type-1 Energy Sword, a secret he still had not shared with anyone, a secret that he was especially glad he still had at this moment.

It was characteristically unlike the Chief Technician to leave his work unattended, and that made John nervous. Nevertheless everything had been neatly arranged, cleaned and loaded, and it was far more likely that Karl had gone off to catch up on some well-deserved sleep.

Miles had noticed John's apprehension too, and had gone through every piece of ammunition, field stripped and reassembled his weapons including a function check, and everything seemed in order. Still, something seemed off.

"Aff, John, you will do fine," Miles gave him a respectful punch to the shoulder as the Chief attached the weapons to the various magnetic plates on his suit. The M6D was attached to his right thigh, the SPNKR on the magnetic plate on his back, while he carried the MA5C in his hands.

The Chief smiled back, but then all emotoin left his face as he clipped his helmet down and it locked into place. Almost immediately a gold shimmering that was his shields erupted around his body, and a distinctly female voice filled his ears.

"We're all set here too Chief," Cortana echoed in his head. The Chief smiled again inside his helmet, grateful to have perhaps his most trusted companion back with him.

"Good to have you with me Cortana. But I do not need to remind you...." the Chief started.

"Don't worry, I'll stay focused, but you still better give me all the juicy details later," she teased.

_This is going to be one interesting day_ John thought as the three made their way above ground and to the entrance of the arena. Just as the door to the armory closed, inside a locked closet, the inert and drugged form of Chief Technician Karl began to stir.

_Clan Wolverine Trial Arena_

The Chief made his way through the large sallyport at one end of the arena, feeling more like a Gladiator from ancient Rome than a modern warrior. In the distance he could make out three small forms which was Star Commander Greg Ebon, two other Elementals of his Point, and the looming figure of the _Locust_ battlemech.

Surprisingly, there was a minimal of cheering or noise from the gathered spectators. Everyone understood the gravity of the battle and what was about to unfold, almost all of them having had to endure the same Trial. The Chief came to attention and saluted the Khan and the crowd, who returned the same sharp salute. Afterwards her voice filled the air over the loudspeakers.

"John, this is a Call to Trial for the full rights and privileges as a member of the Warrior Caste of the Clan Wolverine. Your objective is to neutralize as many opponents as you can while remaining combat effective. Even if you must pull yourself out of the arena on nothing but your hands and knees, you will succeed. Defeat one opponent, and you become a full-fledged Elemental warrior. Defeat three, and you will earn the rank of Point Commander. Defeat all three along with the _Locust_, and you will earn the rank of Star Commander. This Trial is initiated, Wolverine Clan protocol!"

On that command, like warhounds slipped loose from their handlers, Ebon's Point and John unslung their weapons and charged head on to each other.

_Armory_

_I've got to get out of here!_ Though Karl as he used a delicate set of tools to try and pick the lock of the closet from the inside. In the distance, he thought he heard the distinct sounds of gunfire and perhaps a muffled explosion. _Oh no, they've already started!_ He worked even more feverishly, since at his feet lay the fuses for the SPNKR rockets.

Whoever had sabotaged the Chief's weapons had been very careful about how they did so. By removing the fuses, when the rockets hit a target, they would not detonate. While perhaps still lethal to in infantryman, against armor or a mech, the Chief might as well be shooting a BB gun.

_Trial Arena_

"He's coming on down on your left, Chief!" Cortana shouted and his motion tracker was alive with a blur. Greg Ebon and his Point were bearing down on the Chief with extreme prejudice. Their armored battle suits were not as fast and lacked the shielding of MJOLNIR, but they had an additional advantage, jump jets.

Ebon and his point had closed the two kilometer gap in mere moment, launching themselves through the air several hundred meters at a time much like the Ranger Elites, but were much, much faster. They had the Chief surrounded and in an elevated position, the Chief hunkering down behind one of the few boulders in the arena for some cover. It provided little since Ebon and his Point merely had to jump upwards and could fire down on the Chief. The Chief returned fire when he could, but the 7.62x51 AP ammunition was proving less than effective against the armored infantry.

One Elemental tried to flank the Chief on his left, making a bold move to get behind him and whittle down his armor with their micro lasers that packed as much punch as a pair of Covenant Carbines. Thinking quickly, the Chief let out a long burst from his MA5C aimed at the intake for the left jump jet. His aim was true, and the jet sputtered and died, sending the Elemental spiraling out of control with only his right jet working. Buzzed around for a moment like an annoyed wasp, then came out of the sky like a meteor, and cratered on the earth about as well.

_Such a wasted life, only for a Trial_ the Chief thought as he reloaded his MA5C. In the distance, the _Locust _whirred to life as its companion fell out of the sky. _This is not good, not good at all¸_ the Chief thought as he gave another burst from his MA5C towards another Elemental that got a little too close with the same effect, or lack thereof.

From above the arena at the spectators, the air could have ignited from the tension as everyone watched the battle unfold in earnest. Meghan watched with intent as the Chief unslung his SPNKR and aimed at the _Locust_ bearing down on him. She made a small prayer this his aim was true as one rocket and another left the tube, and it was answered as they connected squarely with the bubble cockpit of the _Locust_. Perhaps she should have prayed for the rockets to work, as there was no follow-up explosion. Across the battle-coms monitoring the conversations of the combatants, she heard the Chief utter something that sounded distinctly like, "oh, shit." Feeling a hand land on her shoulder, she turned to see the sweaty and winded from of Chief Technician Karl, bruises evident from an assault on his face. Wordlessly he opened his palms, which held the detonation fuses for the SPNKR rockets. _This is not good at all. Damn you, Ebon!_

"Oh, shit." The Chief spoke aloud. It was apparent that he had been sabotaged. One dud rocket was a fluke, but two? That was so statistically unlikely that someone had done some tinkering with his gear. His thoughts were cut short as the _Locust's_ medium laser cut loose, completely vaporizing his cover and sent the Chief flying, his shields completely overloaded.

He landed in a heap at the earth, his helmet flying off and landing next to him. Everything appeared to go in slow-motion and in a blur, he realized he was shellshocked. Reaching over for his MA5C that landed next to him, a heavy foot kicked away his rifle. Looking up, he found himself staring at the face of Star Commander Greg Ebon, looking especially snide.

"You put up a good fight, freebirth, but what can one expect from those not of the trueborn?" He leveled the muzzle of the micro-laser at John's head. "Now, die." Again, the Star Commander had made the mistake of underestimating the Chief's speed, a mistake that John fully intended to be fatal.

In one swift move John brought his left arm up and batted away the levelled muzzle of the micro-laser just as the shot discharged, missing his face by mere inches, but still hot enough to blister his cheek. Simultaneously the Chief kicked out of his position, his right hand producing what Ebon thought looked like a small dumbell. It would be the last thing he ever saw as the Chief ignited the blade and swiftly decapitated him.

The remaining member of the Point froze slightly at the sight of the blade which had just cut his commander in two like a knife through butter. The Chief turned to him, and uttered one word, "heigra." Another example of Clan language, roughly translated to honorable retreat from battle. The Elemental raised his arms and backed away, his battle yielded. The Mechwarrior piloting the _Locust, _however, felt no such compunction and charged full speed at the Chief, medium laser and Inferno SRMs spitting out of the looming war machine.

Having collected his helmet, the Chief considered his options. The Locust was faster and packed more firepower than him, he likely would never make it to the edge of the arena before being run down or cut down. Perhaps if he had the agility of jump jets he might have made it. Instead, he charged full speed right back at the _Locust_.

Meghan had watched the entire scenario unfold from above. More than one murmur of amazement, even from the Crusaders, came as she watched the SPARTAN charge headfirst at the _Locust_. She closed her eyes and said another prayer.

John dodged the incoming missiles and zig-zagged a random path at the _Locust_ so fast that the mechwarior could not keep track of him. Then, he jumped. Not just any jump, but actually leaped through raw physical power the full two stories height that was the cockpit of the _Locust._ He grabbed hold for dear life as the Mechwarrior tried in vain to shake him off.

_Not today_, John thought as he unholstered his M6D. Bashing in the clear canopy with his elbow and raw strength, he gave the Mechwarrior four rounds to his center mass, thoroughly ventilating him. Grabbing the joystick controls, he yanked hard to the left. The _Locust_, having lost its sense of balance from the dead Mechwarrior, turned, toppled and fell as if in slow-motion, landing in a heap and kicking up a cloud of dust.

Meghan and the crowd watched the _Locust_ go down, and an eerie silence came across the battlefield which only moments ago, had been punctuated by explosions and flashes of energy weapons. Then out of the dust cloud, a shadow, then a figure appeared. The Master Chief strode forward, helmet in one hand, MA5C in the other, sporting perhaps the largest smile of his life.

As one, the crowd erupted in applause and cheer, and as of that moment, Master Chief John-117, SPARTAN, was no more. Now he was Star Commander John Wolverine, Elemental, and his new life began.


	13. Chapter 12

_Chapter 12_

_Clan Wolverine Trial Arena Armory, Circe, April 2822_

"....and that is when I finally managed to get out of the closet over there and find you." Chief Technician Karl sat on one of the stools surrounded by the Meghan and her Point as well as John as he recounted what happened in the armory, still holding a large ice pack to the back of his head.

No sooner had John's trial finished that he had been met by the Point and ushered away to the armory before anyone else, even the Khan, could speak with him. He had removed his helmet, his face blasted with dust and the burn on his cheek from the near-miss from Star Commander Ebon's laser. Laid out on the table in front of him were the detonation fuses for his SPNKR rockets, and John at the moment wished that Ebon was alive once more just so that he could shove those fuses down his throat before decapitating him a second time.

Also disassembled on the worktable was one of the Chief's 7.62x51 rounds for his MA5C rifle. The Chief felt the ammunition was suspect due to the fact that the bullets had just glanced off Ebon's battle armor and barely chipped the paint. They should have done far more than that since the core of the bullets were made of tungsten steel that could cut through sanghelli and jackal armor like a knife through butter.

Instead, the ammunition had been replaced with bullets that contained a soft lead core that just tended to go _splat_ against armor and was more suitable for things such as hunting or target practice. Had Ebon not traded out the ammunition right before the battle, it is unlikely that the Chief would have been scratched and that Ebon and his Point would have been swiss cheese long before they got close.

The Star Captain appeared for a moment absolutely solemn, although her eyes burned with shame and disgust. "Neg, Technician. I should have known that Ebon would have tried something under handed like this. I should have posted a guard, and we will not make this mistake again." She looked back up and met John's eyes, although admittedly she had a rather hard time doing so since her lack of foresight had come within half an inch of getting him killed.

"Aff, Star Captain, but Ebon is dead," Miles said. "Even a schemer like that would find it difficult to come back from the grave, quiaff?" His eyes also barely moving from the fuses on the worktable.

John shook his head and spoke next, "Neg, Miles. While Ebon may be busy pushing up daisies right now, we just do not know for sure if he really was the one behind this, if there were others involved, or if another like-minded individual will make a similar attempt now or in the future." His voice was even deeper than usual, and sounded especially worn out.

The rest of the Point looked up at John then back down at the table and over to their Star Captain, who silently nodded in agreement to John's entire statement. "Aff, John, but that will be a concern for another day." She clapped her hands together and for the first time since entering the armory, smiled.

She was about to say something further when two armored Elementals entered into the armory, weapons at the ready, halted and pointed at John. "Wolverine Warrior John, you will come with us!" One of them sounded off, the edge of command in his voice.

John's MA5C was still slung over his back, but he had the energy sword at his hip, as he turned to face the new arrivals, his hand lingered over the familiar silver shape of the sword hilt. These Elementals were different, their armor painted in a different style that he had seen before. Strikingly, instead of the Clan Wolverine symbol on the armor breastplate, theirs had of a red wolf head with a read background over five stars. _Wolf, these warriors are from Clan Wolf_, thought John and in a blur of motion there was a crackle and smell of ozone as the shimmering blue blade snapped to life in the confined space of the Armory. If it did come down to a fight, Elemental opponent or otherwise, in a small room the badass holding the energy sword would be the victor, and John was the current badass. Immediately, Meghan Buckler stepped between the two Wolf warriors and John, raising her hands to both parties.

"Lower your weapon, John. Follow these Elementals, they will take you where you need to go." She turned to the two Wolf Elementals, "and I suggest you treat him with the respect due a Warrior of the Wolverine Clan and keep those weapons at port arms, else that he misunderstands your intentions and you will find yourself being returned to Strana Mechty....in pieces, quiaff?"

The duo did not answer the Star Captain, although they did respectively lower and shoulder their weapons as they moved to flank John and escorted him out of the Armory. On the way out Meghan held out her hand to John, wordlessly asking him for his weapons. The Chief hesitated, not willing to surrender his rifle or the sword.

Meghan gave a huff, "it's not for your protection, it's for theirs. I'd hate to see you kill anyone who's intentions were misunderstood." The green giant remained unmoving. "Trust me, John," she pleaded her case. Slowly John nodded and handed over the sword along with his rifle and sidearm. Only a fool would think he was disarmed, a SPARTAN was a living weapon, even more deadly inside his suit.

As soon as John and the Wolf warriors left, Meghan and her Point went about rapidly changing and preparing for John's next phase in the Clan with a purpose.

_Clan Wolverine Council Halls_

The trip to the Clan Wolverine Council Hall had been notably uneventful for John, having been loaded into the back of a utility vehicle along with the Wolf Elemental escorts, they had taken a rather indirect route to the Council Halls. _They're delaying_, thought John. Not a word had been spoken between himself and his entourage, and the ride had been eerily silent.

The brakes on the truck squealed as it slowly came to a halt outside the Wolverine Council Hall on the far side of the base. The building had a lot of history, having been built, vacated and rebuilt and liberated several times in its history on Circe. Now it played host to the Wolverine Clan Khan and her Golden Keshik, roughly the equivalent of a cabinet and elite personal guard. Non-warriors were strictly forbidden entrance during times that the building was in occupation, and John had sometimes wondered just what happened in the Council Halls.

Following the Wolf Elementals up the dais to the entrance he was led into a small room where the Elementals turned and left, and everything went dark as the door shut and the lights went out. Even to his enhanced night vision there wasn't enough light to be able to make out any other doors or exit.

Suddenly John was bathed in bright light as a passage opened at the end of the room, a powerful spotlight from overhead shining down on his armored form, although he did not have his helmet and raised his hand to block the bright light from blinding him.

His eyes adjusted quickly enough to the bright light, and he was able to make out a figure standing in the light before him. It was a massive individual, at least for a woman and there was no mistaking the shape of Star Captain Meghan Buckler. In the background he could make out the hushed breathing of multiple onlookers, hundreds even. He felt extremely vulnerable, being in an open room in the dark with many onlookers without so much as a knife.

She wore an ornate mask shaped after the face of a wolverine, jet black with the gaping teeth painted silver. Her eyes could be seen through the sockets in the mask, although they betrayed no emotion. A flowing red and black cloak held together by a clasp in the emblem of the Clan Wolverine covered the snug jumpsuit that she wore, also black with the Clan Wolverine symbol atop the right breast and the Daggerstars indicating her rank at her left breast. Heavy black leather combat boots with a very intimidating looking combat knife sticking out of her calves finished the outfit.

Motioning John forward with her hands but not saying a word, she stepped back out of the light. John hesitated for a moment then moved to follow Meghan. A blurring motion out of the corner of his eye caught his attention as a shadowy figure moved out of the darkness, and it appeared to have a sword or saber in hand, raised to attack. Had he been fully armored, he would have laughed at someone attacking his MJOLNIR suit with a saber, but missing his helmet he was again left vulnerable.

Moving in a blur, John disappeared into the darkness at the oncoming attacker. A muffled thud was heard and an unconscious form wearing a Wolverine mask collapsed to the floor in the light, the saber it carried clattering to the ground shortly thereafter.

John briefly considered picking up the sword, but Meghan who had reappeared in another circle of light further away started waving her arms at him, conveying disapproval at his actions. _If I wasn't supposed to attack him, he should not have charged at me_, was his reply as he pinned Meghan with a glare. She merely pinned one hand to her hip and motioned him forward with the other, striking a pose that he had seen Cortana do all too often.

Tempting fate again, John stepped forward fully into the newly lit area, but no sooner had he bathed himself in the light that Meghan again stepped out of it, her hands raised as if to ward off an attack, which came soon after. Another hooded and cloaked figure jumped out of the shadows, saber swinging down at John. Almost casually John struck the attacker in his sternum with a massive fist, again calculated to incapacitate rather than kill. It worked to perfection and a second warrior found himself speared and suspended midair atop John's massive fist, then collapsed. He sprawled out at John's green armored feet, saber clattering to the ground alongside its former owner a few seconds after as if to mock him.

Meghan snapped her fingers angrily at John to get his attention again and crossed her arms in disapproval once he was looking her way. _She looks so much like Cortana when she stands like that_ he absent-mindedly thought as he again made his way towards her figure. As he expected when he got close to her she motioned out with her arms to indicate another attack.  
This time before the attacker reached John she jumped in the way and caught the swinging blade in her right hand. _That should have cut her,_ John thought, but after inspecting the blade he noticed it had no edge, it was strictly ceremonial. All at once he felt like a fool as Meghan gave him a sidelong glare as she held the blade and pushed it aside, and the attacker retreated to the shadows. Immediately after the shadows enveloped John and Meghan as the room went dark, and another figure was illuminated atop a raised dais in what appeared to be the center of the room.

The Khan of Clan Wolverine, Sarah McEvedy appeared and motioned for John to approach and stand before her on the dais. "Trothkin, seen and unseen, near and far, living and dead, witness the passage of this candidate that stands before us now!" She paused for a moment, her eyes looking out about the unseen crowd, but only silence responded. "I am the Oathmaster. All will be bound by this conclave, until they are dust and memory, and then into the time beyond all reckoning."

"Seyla." The word came in unison from hundreds of voices, both men and women that surrounded the dais.

"Those that follow the Way of the Wolverine understand the way of the warrior. Those that fail to see the wisdom of the Wolverine are doomed to failure. Who will voice doubt that this warrior is worthy to live the Way of the Wolverine?"

An unknown figure that John had never seen before, dressed in an outfit similar to that of Meghan stepped forward. The figure was slim, athletic and more average sized rather than the behemoth-sized Elementals that John mostly associated with. her tunic was green, a mask that had the visage of a Falcon with its massive beak gaping open. At her thigh she wore a single sidearm and a shuriken nestled on her waist.

"I recognize thee, Fina of the Jade Falcons!"

The green cloaked figure removed her mask and appeared to eye John up and down for a moment, either approvingly or disapprovingly he wasn't sure.

"Oathmaster, I ken death for this whelp. Aye, it is death I see." John didn't visibly change his emotion on his face, but a slight change in his posture that to the untrained eye would appear to be nothing more than a shuffle. To the warriors present, it was more of a defensive move, and they recognized it as such. After all, the Jade Falcon warrior had a gun.

Khan McEvedy smiled at this, apparently John had come to appreciate the Clan culture in regards to the finer aspects of challenges. "Who among the Wolverines would deny this vision?"

A figure appeared, dressed also in a Wolverine costume complete with a long cape, although the Daggerstars on his chest indicated he was a Star Commander. "I recognize thee, Miguel Ebon of the Wolverines!"

The man stepped forward, removed his mask, his darker skin contrasting sharply to John's pale face. John had never seen the man before, and wondered just exactly who was this unknown mechwarrior. Granted, he shared the Ebon name with his ex-nemesis, that alone made him suspect, but he doubted that any enemy would be willing to validate him as a warrior for the Clan. "Oathmaster, it is my ken that this warrior need fear nothing from the battlefield."

As one, the two figures donned their masks and stepped into the darkness. Almost immediately after another figure stepped into the light. This one wore an outfit of jet black fur and leather. The mask was the unmistakable face of a Jaguar, teeth bared and looking mean and ready to fight. "I recognize thee, Franklin Osis of the Smoke Jaguars!"

The figure removed the mask to reveal a scarred face that looked even meaner than the mask, and John instantly shifted his posture to that of defense. The wicked face of Franklin Osis, Khan and founder of the Smoke Jaguars instead gave a toothy grin as he appreciated John's response. "Oathmaster, I ken death for this whelp from the sky. Aye, it is death I see!"

"Who among the Wolverines would deny this vision?"

Another Wolverine figure entered into the lighted dais. The Daggerstars, however, indicated that this individual was a Star Colonel and hailed from the Aerotechs rather than Mechwarriors or Elementals. Removing his mask it revealed the face of Ryan Hennessy, the captain of the Jumpship _Supernova._ John had met the Star Colonel on a few occasions while aboard his vessel. He was a man that commanded and received respect from his crew and looked after his people. He reminded John a bit of another starship captain he once knew.

"Oathmaster, it is my ken that this warrior fear nothing from the skies."

Again, both figures faded into the darkness, and one final figure appeared. This one wore an ornate cloak of absolute blood red with a Wolf mask. John did a second glance but he already knew who stood before him before the visitor lifted his Wolf mask away to reveal the grizzled face of ilKhan Nicholas Kerensky.

Sarah McEvedy didn't appear deterred in the slightest as the most powerful man in Clan space stared at John. "I recognize the, ikKhan Nicholas Kerensky of Clan Wolf!"

Nicholas turned his head slightly as of to speak directly to Khan McEvedy, but kept his steely gaze on John. "Oathmaster, I ken death for this whelp from the hand. Aye, it is death I see!"

What happened next surprised both SPARTAN and Clanner alike. Instead of asking for a third validation, the Khan herself stepped forward. "I, Sarah McEvedy of Clan Wolverine ken that this warrior fear nothing from the hand." John instantly felt uncomfortable at the move she made. There were any number of warriors more than willing to partake in the ceremony, why the Khan had just put herself in front of the ilKhan made him uneasy. He suspected that on a level that was way above his pay grade another battle was being fought, and like it or not he was being involved in it.

ilKhan Kerensky for his part gave a wry grin that betrayed no sense of benevolence as he donned his mask and stepped away. Sarah allowed herself a small smile as she turned to face John.

"John, three times you have been challenged, three times you have been validated. Sponsored by the Wolverine, warded by the Clan, all is in order." Another figure appeared at the edge of the dais, it was Meghan Buckler holding a soft velvet pillow of dark black and red material. Atop the pillow sat the Daggerstar of a Wolverine Star Commander.

"For vanquishing three opponents and one mech in a recognized Clan Trial of Position, it is the honor of Clan Wolverine to bestow upon you the rank of Star Commander." Taking the small metal rank she pressed it to John's breastplate, the adhesive backing sticking to his armor. Sure that the rank pip wouldn't fall off his armor, both she and Meghan stepped back from the lit dais, leaving John again alone in the light.

"Let us rejoice and let pride sing out!" John heard the determined and loud voice of Meghan Buckler. "There is a new warrior in the Clan!" With that, the lights in the massive room lit, revealing the many hundreds of warriors from the base, but also delegations from various other Clans as well. Apparently, the ilKhan's visit to Circe and visitation during John's validation ceremony had been a bit more than just coincidence.

As one, the crowd erupted into applause and cheer, at the base of the dais was Meghan and her Point, all dressed in costumes. Both Franco and Galen were suspiciously favoring various parts of their bodies, while Miles and Yelena merely appeared pleased. _Guess I found out who the mystery attackers were then_ John thought.

Pausing on his way down from the dais he took the time to appreciate the moment. Now he really was reborn, reborn into the Clan Wolverine as Star Commander John Wolverine. Tradition dictated that non-Bloodnamed warriors used the surnames of their Clan until when or if they won a Bloodname for themselves. Still, his new family reached for him with welcoming arms and smiles, his new brothers and sisters in arms. John allowed another rare smile and went down to meet them.

In the background ilKhan Nicholas Kerensky was burning holes through the back of John's head with his eyes. Yes, a reckoning would be coming indeed if the most recent Snow Raven report was accurate...............


	14. Chapter 13

_Chapter 13_

_A/N: After a long hiatus and some critiques from readers who are adamant Halo fans, I'm ready to pick up the story a little more, enjoy._

_Clan Wolverine Training Grounds, Circe, June 2823_

John sat hovering over various datapads full of status updates, performance reports, and combat exercises along with schedules detailing upcoming combat maneuvers for his elemental Star. A lone overhead light provided him with the necessary illumination, the sun having set hours ago, his dinner stone cold and untouched sat to his side, and there was no end in sight to the mounds of paperwork that came with a commission.

"Tell me, Cortana, what did I ever do to deserve this?" John spoke aloud to Cortana's shimmering form on the small holoprojector that occupied the space next to his desk although his eyes never left the datapad he held in his hands.

The blue avatar shifted her form and raised a condescending finger, waving it in a fashion that Doctor Halsey had done so many times when making a point. "Deserve what, being made an officer? Quit complaining, I'd say you got it pretty good compared to floating in a cryo pod in deep space." John merely shook his head and tried to focus on the mundane work in front of him.

It had been more than two months since John had passed his Trial of Position with Clan Wolverine, and life had gone from high-paced to lightspeed almost instantly, along with many drastic changes. As a Star Commander, he had found himself back in the command role again, although unlike his NCO status with the UNSC he was a fully commissioned officer in the Clan.

John didn't so much mind being in command, in fact since the day CPO Mendez and Dr. Halsey had entered his life, he was by all accounts a natural leader, able to inspire anyone and everyone around him. If anything his new station was as close to his old posting as he could ever get. Commanding a Star put him in charge of twenty five elementals, five elementals to a Point, five points to a Star with John making twenty six as the Star Commander.

Meghan Buckler was now officially his superior as the Star Captain, and John reported to her directly. Secretly he desired no more command authority than he already had since the higher up one typically got in the commissioned chain of command, the more managerial a role one assumed and the more detached one became from those below oneself. She still retained her own personal Command Star where Yelena, Franco, Galen and Miles remained, but for the three Stars that composed her Trinary of which John commanded one of, she left more or less to function independently to their own devices. Having over a hundred and twenty five warriors plus support and logistical crew, Meghan essentially commanded what to the UNSC would either have been an over-strength company or under-strength battalion, it simply wasn't feasible to be close to everyone all at once. She had her Command Star, Star Commanders and that was about it. This was one of several reasons why John had never ever desired commissioned authority in the UNSC, he would have been moved further towards managing his unit rather than doing what he was trained to do, fight. Sure he would still see his share of action but as anyone in the UNSC knew, the NCO's and enlisted grunts were the ones who always got the job done.

For now though John was right in his element, he had a tight-knit Star that for the past two months he had been pushing harder and harder and worked extraordinarily well together and personnel-wise was almost identical in size to his post-augmented SPARTAN-II Blue team. Privately he disliked the concept that at some point in time he may be asked to take further command and lose the closely knit connection that he felt was so necessary in a unit to function well, and even then he knew that there were leaps and bounds of improvements needed to get a unit that could even hope to hold a candle to Blue Team. He also doubted that Cortana would be none too happy either to be reduced to secretary, a point that he made to her once and for the first time in recent memory, she failed to deliver any sort of retort.

Cortana had been quietly tolerant of Meghan surprisingly. She still didn't trust the Star Captain fully, and John felt that somewhere deep down she was even a bit envious. Long before John had found himself dumped on this end of the multiverse, John and Cortana had to what some circles felt was a relationship going, or at least as close as an AI construct and a super-soldier with a reduced libido could get. She still treated the Star Captain fairly and with courtesy knowing full well that Meghan had been a driving force in getting John integrated with the Clan, but she never could fully trust someone who's loyalties were not with the UNSC, even though there was no UNSC in this universe. It was quite simply in her programming that loyalty came to the UNSC first, and anyone how lacked that loyalty was suspect, no matter how pure their motives.

John had faced somewhat similar struggles as well in trying to figure things out. His interpersonal skills extended to military and battlefield command only, the UNSC having failed to issue him training on how to manage personal relationships. Truthfully for Spartans it was a non-issue in most cases, at least among themselves. Having grown up and lived together and being trained so tightly bound, for almost any Spartan they had essentially two sets of social skills, skills for Spartan and nothing at all. This was one reason why almost all other personnel in the UNSC gave the Spartans such a wide berth when Spartans were not on a mission.

Certainly there was the fear and awe factor, but for a Spartan idle chatter was an almost unknown quantity since it was viewed as inefficient and distracting, and therefore it was practically nonexistent within the unit. Sure, sometimes they would retell old stories and banter among each other, but the stories and themes to anyone except a Spartan were completely unrelatable, and this made them almost as alien as the Covenant to anyone who knew them. The few that did truly understand the Spartans as they were, such as Sergeant Johnson respected and understood that the camaraderie for Spartans simply ran so deep it would be impossible for anyone but a Spartan to understand or appreciate it, and trying to impose or enter the private world of a Spartan's psyche would be an unwelcome visit. Even being a SPARTAN-I he had respected their unique camp enough to not try and invite himself in (although in his case John doubted anyone would have minded) and as the old saying went, "you can't explain it from the inside, you can't understand it from the outside, you simply have to experience it." Spartans quite simply had their own world that worked well for them and the Spartan mission, any other concerns were secondary. Hurt feelings and misunderstandings of ignorant associates didn't even register on any level of concern. The mission always came first, and while Elementals were as close to Spartans as John had ever met, they ultimately didn't have the established history or understanding to fit as seamlessly as John would have had he been back with Blue Team.

What this translated to insofar as a real-world result of this insular social living was that John was the Lone Wolf in a group where being the Lone Wolf was usually equivalent to the person who caught the first round in combat. His relationships with his five Point Commanders was not as close as he would have liked, and while they executed and followed his orders to the utmost of their abilities along with the rest of his Star, and as professional soldiers they were the pride of the Cluster and looked upon as an example by many other Star Commanders and Star Captains, deep down he knew they obeyed not out of any personal sense of loyalty, but more out of a sense of obligation for the post that John currently occupied. He was confident that in time through hard training and establishing a common ground that loyalty could be established, but for now he felt that it was a fatal flaw that could result in casualties in combat.

Whatever relationship John had with Meghan had cooled drastically. Partly because John felt getting too close to his CO was bad for business, not that he ever would let whatever personal feelings he had for the woman interfere but more that it would set a bad example and precedence, but also that the more she tried to understand John, the more of an enigma he proved to be.

While both Spartan and Elemental had been groomed since a very young age for combat, they had drastically different approaches and mentalities to battle. Spartans were trained to be inventive in tactics, always looking for a way to defeat the enemy creatively be it overwhelming force or subversion. Standup fights where armies lined up and called each other out were for bad action films as far as Spartans were concerned. Elementals were almost the exact opposite in every respect. They fought for the honor and glory for themselves and their Clan. They always fought in stand-up fights, one on one preferably and even went so far as to actually "bid" with their opponents over battles in regards to committed troops, battle zones and objectives. The idea being to conserve forces and reduce not only the potential loss of life on either side but also collateral civilian damage. Decades of total war that had pushed the human race into a second dark age was all too fresh in Clanner doctrine, and their fighting style reflected it.

While John could understand the attempt at trying to avoid the horrors of total warfare, to him it seemed a completely ludicrous way to wage war by giving the enemy the opportunity to prepare for your attack and to try and meet them with an even force and base battles strictly on luck and chance with two forces pitted against each other as equally as possible. As good as his luck was, luck was still luck and like any resource eventually it could run out. He far preferred overwhelming and dominating force that came with the certainty that he would win the fight. He felt that by always playing fair it not only increased the odds of him or someone on his team from not returning alive, but also it reduced his odds of being able to win and complete his mission. John hated losing, every fiber of his being told him that if there was a way to win, do it.

This combined with his already insular social attitude had been enough to make things cool down drastically with Meghan, and the two dominant personalities had simply refused to budge or even compromise on who was right. Both were so strongly conditioned to fight and win and ultimately it was that sheer stubbornness that had been the turning point. They still maintained a professional working relationship and a friendship to be valued, and while the two coupled on occasion, sex was just sex in the Clan and John was content to let things drop down a notch somewhat. Cortana hadn't complained at all and had been both openly and privately supportive of John.

John refocused his eyes on the datapad, feeling the edge of sleepiness creep in, and with the practiced experience that only a Spartan possessed, pushed his weariness from his mind and forced himself to keep on the task at hand. Things were looking more and more grim for Wolverine and he had to be at his best.

From up on high at the Wolverine Golden Keshik, things were looking to go from bad to FUBAR back on Strana Mechty. The Clans were on the verge out outright revolt against ilKhan Kerensky's authoritarian grip. He had created a warrior nation bred to fight, but with no enemies to battle things were becoming restless and unruly. John knew it was only a matter of time before the entire situation imploded, and he intended to be ready. He only hoped it would be enough.


	15. Chapter 14

_Chapter 14_

_Strana Mechty, Clan Grand Council Halls, August 28th, 2823_

"And now I motion that this Council approves all possessions, resources, technology, and facilities located inside the 331st Royal Battlemech Battalion reserve on Circe, otherwise known as the 'Brian's Cache' be opened and evenly distributed to the entire Clan Nation."

Clan Jade Falcon Khan Elizabeth Hazen stepped down from the podium in the center of the semi-circular seating arrangement where the Khans and saKhans of all twenty Clans sat, cheers and shouts of outrage following her all the way to her seat and beyond.

The Council of Khans had started off bumpy enough, ilKhan Nicholas Kerensky had opened up with a speech about the prosperity and great visions of the future that his father held. While some of the Khans, notably Ghost Bear Khan Sandra Tseng and her husband and Ghost Bear saKhan Hans Ole Jorgensson had been far less enthused, Wolverine Khan Sarah McEvedy had been outright critical and hostile from the start. She had blasted not only his inactions but also his praise of a terrible tragedy that had just occurred a mere month prior.

Immediately before landing on Strana Mechty, she had received words of an internal coup within the Jade Falcons. Both the Khan and saKhan were dead, killed in an internal civil war which lasted all of two hours where fanatical supporters of Kerensky's "New Vision" stormed the Falcon capital on their world of Ironhold and slaughtered the current Jade Falcon Golden Keshik and worked their way down from there, and barely any non-supporter was spared the slaughter.

One could spend a lifetime studying the intricacies of Clan politics and still barely scratch the surface, but everyone present knew that what happened to the Falcon Keshik was no minor action by some vocal minority. In fact the now ex-Khans of Jade Falcon Lisa Buhallin and Daniel Mattlov, counted upon by Sarah as her strongest supporters against Nicholas were gone, replaced by two puppets who barked merely with a raised finger from Nicholas. She had no doubt that Nicholas had a hand in their deaths, one could not merely exterminate an entire Clan Keshik in that timeframe without some very serious outside support.

Never before had such an act of betrayal occurred, but what was most disturbing to Sarah was that instead of condemning or calling for a Trial of Grievance or Trial of Annihilation against the perpetrators in the act that the new Falcon Keshik was now calling "The Culling", Nicholas had actually opened up with praise for the new Jade Falcon Khans and blessed their righteous struggle as Nicholas had quoted, "to bring clarity to the future of Jade Falcon."

It was clear very early on who was in who's pocket and things degraded to a complete shit fight from there. Even the normally stolid Wolf Khan Jerome Winson, cousin of Alexandr Kerensky and long viewed as the voice of wisdom and reason of the Council, appeared incredibly disgusted. Usually he and Nicholas were like twins, political differences aside they always stuck together, but today was opening up much differently.

Some of the most ardent Crusader Clans had cheered openly at the notion, The Smoke Jaguar Khans, perhaps the most aggressive of the bunch, were practically foaming at the mouth for the opportunity to get the badly needed supplies and manufacturing equipment that Clan Wolverine had bled for during the assault on Circe, but also they appeared as expected more than eager to fight for it, and everyone knew that Wolverine would not give up their hard-earned reward without spilled blood to show for it. The Clan Widowmaker delegation, longtime rivals of Wolverine and who deeply despised Sarah's hoarding of the cache and the strength of her Clan, looked ecstatic at the prospect of their hated rival being brought down more than a few pegs.

No sooner had Hazen's butt hit her seat that McEvedy was out of hers, screaming at the top of her lungs. "We of the Wolverine Clan oppose this notion! It is we who invaded Circe, underbid and outnumbered, yet we prevailed despite being surrounded and outnumbered! It is we who have the right to own and possess the contents of the Cache, not see it squandered by those who never had any right to it!"

Sarah looked to her left where Jerome Winson sat, her face full of fury but her eyes pleading for support. She did not envy his position in the slightest. He was Khan of Nicholas's chosen Clan and a blood relative, yet his conscience was telling him to not merely go along with the ilKhan. She noticed that he failed to return her look and kept his eyes down as he pressed the key at his desk, casting his vote for the proposed motion.

She looked to the right where Sandra and Hans sat, their faces conflicted with emotion as well. The Ghost Bears were perhaps the third most vocal critic of Nicholas behind Wolverine and the Falcons, but after the events of Ironhold neither wanted to see their clan ravaged by internal strife and their faces looked haunted as they respectfully registered their votes as well. Sarah felt as if her support was crumbling around her, and then the bottom fell out with the final vote tally: 29 yea, 10 nay and 1 abstaining vote.

While the results of the vote were hardly surprising, the abstaining vote was most surprising. A touch at her shoulder made her look to her left where she saw Jerome standing and what looked like a tear forming on his haunted face. She had no doubt who cast the abstaining vote, and she also had no doubt that he would catch serious hell for not following along with Nicholas's plans. Nicholas still sat at the center podium, but if his eyes were PPC's then both Sarah and Jerome would have been toast. Sarah looked back and the screaming started again.

"We of the Wolverine Clan reject this motion! I, Khan Sarah McEvedy challenge ilKhan Kerensky to a Trial of Refusal against this decision made by this Council! Bid whatever forces you deem, we will face you on an equal field!"

Another roar bounded the Council hall before Nicholas stood to speak, raising his hand as the voices grew silent. "Your dedication and memory of the disputed cache is commendable Khan McEvedy. We of this Council know all too well of the Wolverine's selfless sacrifice to capture the contents and to protect them, and while your resistance to this motion is misguided, it is understood." Nicholas paused, his condescending tone feeling like an electro-lash to Sarah, and the entire Council knew what would come next as the ilKhan gave a pained look to his two Wolf Khans.

"We of the Clans accept your Trial, and as the voice of the Clans I bid Clan Widowmaker under the direction of Khan Cal Jorgensson." Jerome merely kept silent as he and his Khan was passed by the ilKhan in the impromptu bidding, Victoria Ward, his saKhan, looked pained to see her Khan be publicly humiliated for voting his conscience, but ultimately she was a Khan of Clan Wolf and had a duty and a calling and kept silent, the cheers and jeers from Widowmaker felt like ice crystals going through her chest.

_flick_

The holoprojector of the Clan Council proceedings was switched off, and Meghan Buckler sat back down at her circular table, her five Star Commanders and herself equally disgusted with the spectacle occurring on the Homeworld. John, who sat two seats to Meghan's right, felt little. He definitely shared the sentiment that whatever just transpired in the Grand Council Hall was more of a circus act than leaders of a warrior nation. Instead he looked to his Star Captain for orders.

Meghan's face was a sea of emotions, feelings of anger, injustice and humiliation of her Clan by backstabbing freebirths threatening to crack through her hardened exterior. She took a deep breath and spoke slowly and deliberately, "we all knew this day would come. From this point forward I want all of my Stars on full readiness and alert. When this thing goes hot, I want us ready to get into the fire. We are warriors and we are at war, it is what we pray for." Everyone in the room minus one Spartan took a deep breath and grew an edge as they were reminded of their purpose and glory in life. John was merely impassive.

"I have my faith and trust in all of you to fulfill your duties honorably and with the professionalism and precision I have come to expect of each of you. The time is 1930 hours, we will have another meeting at 1030 hours tomorrow. I want complete battle readiness reports and briefings on your units, along with analysis of Wolverine tactics and response."

As the Star Commanders prepared to rise from the table and deliver the news to their respective units, the knocking of a knuckle on the table brought pause, and everyone in the room looked to the source, and all were surprised to find that John had something to say. Usually the Spartan was impassive, the Green Giant in his armor had always seemed more like a statue to the Elementals, but when he spoke he always commanded a respect that everyone listened.

John eyed the members at the table and spoke slowly and in his deep, gruff voice. "We fight them until we cannot, and kill them any way we can." The out-of-character comment by the normally untalkative Spartan was shocking to everyone in the room and not a soul moved except for Meghan for a slight smile and spark had just crossed her face. Then with the notable exception of the Spartan, the entire room erupted in war cries that could have thundered to both Heaven and Hell.


	16. Chapter 15

_Chapter 15_

_Strana Mechty, Clan Space Capital World, September 10th, 2823_

Meghan Buckler groaned inwardly as she saw another Star of her Elementals wink off the bidding screen for the upcoming Trial of Refusal against Clan Widowmaker. Already she was down to only two Stars out of five, and there seemed to be no bottom in the bidding.

_Overeager freebirth fools,_ she thought. _Too ready to try and prove how brave they are by going well below the acceptable cut-down, stravag!_

John stood to her side, also watching as the process of troops being whittled down and inwardly, he thought what was happening here was ludicrous. Clan Widowmaker had already finalized their bidding the day before. The field of battle would be an open desert on the southern hemisphere of Circe riddled with cliffs, only a few kilometers away from the actual location of the disputed cache. The total forces to oppose the Wolverines were one full heavy Star of five mechs ranging in tonnage anywhere from 60 to 75 tons, and four Elemental Stars for a total of over a hundred Elementals. Already the Wolverine bidding was down to four heavy mechs and three stars to oppose the Widowmaker's forces, so they were already going in outnumbered and outgunned.

It was not like Clan Wolverine had much choice in the matter. After the fiasco with the Falcons and Khan McEvedy's slipping power base, Wolverine had to make a statement. In a warrior society the battlefield was the final word for any argument, and if Wolverine could pull this off especially against heavy odds, it would force the ilKhan to back off and the other Clans on the fence to sit up and take notice. As such the commanders in the bidding had to cut it close, real, _real _close. If the gamble worked, things would work out well for the Clan and their future. If it failed, well, John always hated losing and he ended that line of thought sharply.

A chime brought his attention back to the holographic bidding screen, indicating the final bidding had completed. Ultimately Clan Wolverine would field two Elemental Stars for a total of fifty troopers, and for mechs they would utilize two heavy mechs and two medium mechs. All in all Widowmaker would have a two to one advantage for the boot infantry, and almost a twenty five percent advantage in tonnage for the mechs. He only hoped it would be enough.

_Circe, Pentagon Worlds, October 6th 1723 hours, 2823_

A knock at the armory's door brought John out of his deep mental focus at the weapons and ammunition on the table. Unlocking the heavy metal door barring entrance to the armory, John was greeted by the sight of his Star Captain. He promptly came to attention and snapped off a salute. Meghan greeted with a fist to chest that was the Clan equivalent. Even across universes, some customs stayed the same.

As John was not currently in his armor she noticed that his pale white skin had tanned someone, taking on a slightly more natural color rather than the ghostly white he had when she first met him. Days and hours on end of outdoor training practice, sparring and combat exercises wearing nothing more than farmer-john style workout clothes under Circe's bright sun had finally started to show, although he was still very pale by any standard, although it did not take away from his well muscled build.

"Taking stock of the inventory for the battle tomorrow, quiaff?" Meghan motioned towards the weapons laid out on the table along with ammunition that looked freshly pressed.

"Aff, Star Captain," John replied in his deep voice, starting to turn back towards his work wordlessly as he methodically reloaded each round for his MA5C one at a time into the magazines. After the incident at his Trial of Position several months ago, this time he was leaving nothing to chance. Not only had he just finished a two hour torture test for his rifle and sidearm at the range, but now he was handloading each individual round for his rifle. An aummunition inspection had failed to catch that the bullets had been replaced with a soft lead core rather than the tungsten steel penetrator last time, so he was taking no chances this time. Technician Karl was also with him, methodically measuring the dimensions as well as weighing each round John produced at the ammunition press, ensuring it was correctly balanced. Meghan gave him a curt nod of acknowledgement and stood back to watch the pair work.

She had completed her own inspection and tests earlier in the day as had the rest of her Star. As the bidding had played out, she would be present on the battlefield since multiple Stars required a Star Captain to lead, although direct command still fell to John and another bloodnamed Star Commander named Geoff Whitfield. John had only met Geoff on a few occasions but he was the consummate professional soldier as any bloodnamed warrior could be, and as such treated John with the respect due a fellow warrior. More and more John had found that the now deceased Star Commander Ebon was the exception, not the norm in Clan Wolverine.

A cough from the technician caught his attention. "There you have it, ovkhan. Three hundred and fifty two rounds marked, measured, verified and loaded. Enough for a full combat load." John noticed the eleven neatly arranged magazines, the fresh brass from the rounds glinting in the armory's light.

John nodded appreciatively, "And the rockets?"

Technician Karl smiled and placed his hand over an electronic scanner on the edge of his workbench. A beep and clink of unlocking tumblers followed immediately as a tray slid out from underneath his workbench, revealing ten SPNKR rounds. "Just got the missiles in today, fresh from the SRM production line. I grabbed twelve missiles from the racks randomly and test fired two, both of which worked flawlessly. These are coming from the same stores and production line that produced the SRM's for the mechs tomorrow." John nodded in approval and quickly loaded the rockets in their tubes as he bundled all the ammunition and firearms together.

Turning to face to Star Captain he came to attention, his arms loaded down with the gear. "We are all finished here, Ma'am." Wordlessly Meghan snagged an ammunition canister and the three made their way back to Johns quarters where under the watchful eye of Cortana, the weapons and ammunition were locked away, the MA5C resting comfortably against the disassembled MJOLNIR armor in John's specially locked armor rack.

Cortana had been rather quiet the past few weeks, already having vented her frustration and feelings on the entire situation to both John and Meghan on multiple occasions in the weeks prior. The former had kept quiet, not feeling like debating an impossible situation when the only resolution would be action and not words, the latter refusing to drop the point at all, determined to make Cortana see things from the Wolverine perspective. Ultimately the two females had come to an impasse and "agree to disagree" was more or less where things stood.

As Cortana quietly watched the three leave, still having her arms folded across her chest and deep in thought, in the space of time of an eyeblink she ran combat simulation after simulation approximately eight thousand times, and what might have been the digital equivalent of a tear appeared to form in her eyes.

Outside technician Karl beat a hasty retreat, mentally and physically exhausted after spending perhaps the seventeen most grueling hours of his life slaving away in the hot and stuffy armory with John since before sunrise. Meghan and John watched him go, understanding that the only thing on his mind was chow, a shower and rack time. Meghan seemed to have a slightly different objective on hers as she spoke softly to John, "I would like to see you tonight."

John's brow furrowed slightly, still unaccustomed to the casual openness that Clansfolk conducted themselves, not to mention how much he found social situations a puzzle and frustrating in and of themselves.

Giving her a sidelong glance in the dipping sun, he contemplated the offer for a full four seconds before he gave his response. "I would like that." They never did get around to evening mess.

_Blasted Dunes Trial Grounds, Circe, October 7th 1932 hours, 2823_

John surveyed his troops arrayed out behind him in a triangle formation with himself at the front. To his left, Whitfield's Star was arrayed in a similar fashion. Meghan Buckler was in front of the two, her battle armor painted in a desert camouflage pattern, same with all the Elementals present. John was the notable exception, his MJOLNIR almost glowing olive drab and seemingly out of place in the desert environment. He had briefly considered painting the suit to better blend in with his troops, but ultimately decided against it. in his hands he carried his MA5C, a magnum pistol on one thigh, the energy sword on his other thigh, and his SPNKR launcher slung across his back.

To his back towering above him were the four mechs, drastically larger than the mere _Locust_ he felled during his Trial of Position. The two heavy mechs were called _Warhammers_ and looked about as intimidating as their name suggested. Massive barrels for forearms indicated their primary armament of particle projectile cannons. John had seen PPC's in use during live-fire exercises, and knew that they damaged through massive heat at the point of impact which rivaled the temperature of a star's core, and also through massive electrical and static overload that would fry any unprotected system along with electrical arcing that literally welded joints in place. Translated roughly for an infantryman, do not get hit. A missile rack sat atop one of the _Warhammer's _shoulders, and the weaponry was rounded out by a pair of heavy machine guns and a laser array.

The two medium mechs were called _Hunchbacks_, aptly named for the massive autocannon perched on their shoulder that the mech was essentially built around, thus giving it a hunchbacked appearance. The massive autocannon, which fired shells of over two hundred millimeters in diameter, could dish out devastating damage at close range, but was useless past a few hundred yards. It simply recoiled too much to be accurate even for a battlemech, hence being paired with the _Warhammers_ and their much longer range but slow to fire PPC's. A few lasers dotted the _Hunchbacks_ center torso almost as an afterthought.

The Trial objectives were clear enough. Clan Wolverine had to defend a small zone about the size of a soccer field from enemy occupation. If Widowmaker managed to get a mech on the zone and could hold it for five minutes with the mech still intact, the Trial would be over with Widowmaker the victor. If Widowmaker failed to achieve the objective by the prescribed upon time which was 2400 hours, or if their five mechs were destroyed, Wolverine won by default. It was a very advanced and very deadly version of the game of territories and there would be lots of casualties before the end of the day. Of that fact, John was sure of it.

John made a sweeping motion with his hand, and his Elemental Star broke formation and fanned out in a semicircle around the contested zone, filling in preplanned and prepared foxholes. The battle plan was for Whitfield's Star to take a perimeter approximately three kilometers from the epicenter of the zone to provide a picket line and early warning for any approaching enemy forces. Cliffs to the west and south created a natural barrier, so more focus was placed on defending the north and easterly approaches, as the heavy mechs, even if they had jump jets, would be unable to clear the cliffs.

John's Star provided a second, denser line further in on the north and eastern approach, his troopers carrying more in the way of heavy weapons and anti-mech equipment, while Whitfield was expected to handle the Widowmaker elementals that would invariably scale the cliff face and try to attack from the rear. The pair of _Warhammers_ flanked either side of the open approach, while the _Hunchbacks_ stayed behind John's line of dug in troopers so that their heavy autocannons could do the maximum amount of damage where it mattered, close range. Cortana kept a 3-D overlay of all the transponders of his Star and allied units on his HUD, giving him an extremely detailed tactical layout, and she also maintained running NavPoint markers for the four Wolverine mechs, Meghan Buckler and Geoff Whitfield so that John could quickly locate and reference the leadership of the team on the ground and rush to aid if necessary.

Also uncharacteristically like Cortana, she had been silent the entire evening, saying just what was required, the usual banter curiously absent. Not that John needed the distraction since the only thing left to do was wait for the enemy to come and find them.

_Blasted Dunes Trial Grounds, Circe, October 7th 2139 hours, 2823_

"Neg Star Captain, thermal and magnetic scanners are still showing no signs of approach here to the south and west," came Whitfield's report on the comm. "The stravag sand is wreaking havoc with our sensors, bu...we will keep...extra eye open and an ear t...he ground."

Meghan had ordered that he and John provide constant tactical updates at least once every ten minutes, and to report every anomaly. The wind had kicked up considerably to over eighty KPH, the sand and dust having reduced visibility to a mere sixty meters and things continued to grow worse. That combined with the night conditions even under Circe's three bright moons meant that regular eyesight was effectively worthless, and the entire defensive team had to rely exclusively on their instruments but even those were proving troublesome.

"Aff, Star Commander. Keep me updated, use your magnetic resonance scanners and LADAR, forget IR. Ambient heat from the desert is going to make IR sensors practically useless."

"LADAR? Star Captain tha...ould give aw...our position, quiaff?" Came Whitfield's garbled reply. Apparently the bad weather was interfering with the communications too and inwardly, John groaned. If things were not bad enough already, to add unreliable communications to the list of things wrong with this situation was just too much.

John looked up from his entrenched position towards Meghan who stood about fifteen meters behind him, her sandy colored power armor almost completely obscured in the storm. "Aff, Star Commander, but they already know where we are. I need eyes and ears out to find _them_ in this stravag storm."

"Confir...der Star Capt...wait. Stand b...and by...ONTACT! I S...AGAIN, CONTACT!" A mere six seconds later, the air around John erupted into a storm of lasers, missiles and cannons, and all hell broke loose.


	17. Chapter 16

_Chapter 16_

_Blasted Dunes Trial Grounds, Circe October 7th 2142 hours, 2823_

"I SA...GAIN, WE...AVE MEC...ND EL...TALS APPROACHING FROM T...ORTH AND WEST! ANOTHER STA...F ELEMENTALS SC...ING THE SOUTHERN CLIFFS!"

Star Captain Buckler was practically shouting into her radio headset to try and be heard over the deafening roars of battlefield fire and wind. Not that it mattered since half of her transmissions were being blocked out by the storm, and things continued to degrade.

As she had expected Clan Widowmaker had indeed split their forces, using a single Star of Elementals to climb the cliffs, their incredible jumpjet boosted agility allowing them to clear the cliff as if they were Superman out for a daily stroll jumping skyscrapers in Metropolis. Star Commander Whitfield was fortunately holding them for now, his three Elemental points of five troopers each that he had dedicated to the cliff defense having the entrenched and higher position, but they were still outnumbered two to one.

His remaining two points that had scouted out ahead to the north and east had found the main Widowmaker force of the other three Elemental Stars and heavy mech Star where they had been doing scoot and shoot tactics, again using the incredible agility of their jumpjets to cover ground quickly. They were essentially the bait, trying to lure the Widowmaker mechs and infantry into a kill box that John's Star and the Wolverine mechs had established. Unfortunately the Widowmaker warriors seemed reluctant to take the bait and instead had kept ranks and approached as one.

John kept low in his foxhole, sticking his head up just far enough to try and get a clear indication of things on the battlefield. With the worsening weather his Transponder overlay was cluttered in static and false readings, something that bugged Cortana to no end as she worked to try and filter out the interference and get a clear picture of what was happening on the battlefield. As much as he abhorred keeping small in his hole, this was not a stand-up infantry fight, and blindly charging against the Widowmaker mechs and Elementals would be suicide, even for a Spartan.

"Reports are coming in, Chief," came Cortana's voice. She still referred to him as Chief despite the fact his UNSC rank was nonexistent. Some old habits just died really hard when it came to Cortana, or perhaps she was still trying to subtly remind him of where his true loyalties were, not that he necessarily needed to be opening up _that_ debate again in the middle of combat.

"Give it to me, what do you have?" John replied as he made a motion to his Starmates with his hands since radio communication was less than reliable. As one his Elementals locked and loaded their man-portable AC/2 cannons. The cannons reminded John of a brute shot except it rested on a heavy tripod, and instead of having a six round clip, the "Haymakers" as the guns were called, pulled their 25mm rounds straight from ammunition drums, much similar to a machine gun and allowing for virtually continuous fire without reloading. Unfortunately the heavy recoil of what was essentially a mech level weapon meant that they could only be fired accurately in bursts.

"Picket Points report three enemy Elemental Stars here and the mechs here," a series of markers appeared on his HUD, although they too bounced and skittered around, the weather interfering once again.

"Keep trying to filter out the interference, if we can pass accurate coordinate data to the mechs we might be able to get some long range fire in before they get too close." John clicked off the safety of his MA5C and leveled the barrel towards the storm of enemy fire that zipped over his head inaccurately, and that's when he saw them.

Using his armor's magnetic sensors he could just barely make out the outline of the five Widowmaker mechs, of which Cortana classified immediately.

"Ok Chief, you have three _Marauders _and two _Catapaults_. The _Marauders _sport PPC's in each arm and the big gun on their back, that's an autocannon along with a few lasers. They're the real threat with heavy armor and weapons effective at all ranges."

Cortana paused a moment before outlying the _Catapaults._ The _Catapults _have massive long-range capability, those two racks on each shoulder are long-range missiles. Get it close though, at less than 90 meters they can't lock on to fire, and the _Catapult_ has a very small secondary array for close-in. They're meant more for fire-support than stand-up fights."

John grunted an affirmative, "weaknesses?"

"The joints for the legs. Here," six moving markers appeared as Cortana tagged each of the _Marauders _left and right leg knee joints. "Also the ammunition feed like for the dorsal mounted autocannon, hit that and you might be able to trigger an ammunition explosion." Another series of markers appeared at the weak spots.

"Ok, and what about the _Catapults_?"

"Same things for the legs, although their front-facing cockpits make the pilot rather vulnerable to ground fire, so a lucky shot might also kill the pilot." A final series of dots covered his now cluttered HUD.

By that time his entire Star could make out the outlines of the mechs, and as one they opened up immediately with their Haymaker guns. John opened up a comm channel to his Star, "Points one and three focus on the enemy infantry, remaining Points open up on the _Marauders_!"

The roar of the guns was devastating, the fire accurate and almost immediately he could see the Widowmaker warriors stagger under the punishing barrage that was only made worse when the Wolverine _Warhammers_ opened up with their paired PPC's. One of the two Widowmaker _Catapults_ staggered and fell, a smoking crater where its cockpit used to be, courtesy of an exceptionally well-placed PPC shot from one of the _Warhammers._

The Widowmaker warriors were hardly out of the fight though as the three _Marauders _opened up on one of the two _Warhammers_, and the remaining _Catapult _along with the infantry focusing on John's Star. John sighted a pair of Widowmaker elementals with his MA5C and let out a long burst, and this time the overpowered rounds did not disappoint as both of his targets fell to the ground, the V-shaped visor of their armor riddled with holes.

Opening up on another pair of Widowmaker troopers, John saw the first of the two Wolverine _Warhammers _go down, its center torso blasted apart by the combined PPC fire from the three _Marauders _that had now closed uncomfortably close. A warning alarm from Cortana blared in his head as the remaining _Catapult_ let forth a swarm of missiles towards John's entrenched Elemental Star.

"Cover!" John shouted into his radio and his entire Star ducked deep in their trenches as the missiles came down from their high trajectory, almost like arrows from a medieval battle except far more deadly. The impact of thirty missiles at once was thunderous, blasting dirt and sand all in the air, obscuring what little sight they had left, his shields flaring from the fragmentation of the missiles. At the same instant four life support indicator lights winked out for his Star, indicating casualties. _A single volley and I just lost 20% of my Star._

Re-emerging from his foxhole, John came out shooting, peppering another three Widowmaker Elementals with bullets. His remaining troopers got right back on their guns, but instead of finding the Widowmaker mechs and Elementals still in front, there were only the mechs and perhaps a Star of Elementals. Risking a rearward glance John saw that the bulk of the Widowmaker infantry had used the opportunity of the _Catapult's_ missile barrage to jump over John's position and swarm the _Hunchback's_ being held in reserve. The Elementals used their micro-lasers to pepper the_ Hunchbacks_ with small craters in their armor, probing for weaknesses. The big autocannons were useless against such small and agile infantry and at such close range they could not be fired without hitting a friendly, and against so many Elementals the mechs would not last long.

Radioing for one of his four remaining Points to follow him and defend the _Hunchbacks_, John leapt from his foxhole, running and firing his MA5C. John's Point was joined by the two Picket Points from Whitfield's Star, which had fortunately been able to keep the cliff assault at bay. Meghan also charged on ahead in her armor, firing her micro laser at the Widowmaker Elementals, felling one trooper and winging another just as the first of two _Hunchbacks _collapsed to the ground, its cockpit ripped open and mechwarrior shot dead.

The second _Hunchback_ went in full reverse and jostled its torso wildly, trying to shake off the troopers. It did succeed in knocking a couple off and even crushed one under its fifty ton foot, but it was two drops in a bucket against the swarm of infantry.

Another series of explosions occurred to John's back and another five life support indicators winked out, courtesy of a second missile barrage from the _Catapult_. The remaining Wolverine _Warhammer_ opened up with everything it had, PPCs and missiles flying at the _Marauders_, trying to break the stride of the assault. While one of the two lightning-like bolts did slam again one _Marauder _and made it stumble and another lost an arm, it was ultimately futile as the three again opened up in full with their PPC's and autocannons. The _Warhammer _stood for a full twenty seconds under the punishing assault before the cockpit canopy blew off and the mechwarrior ejected from his dying machine, and a reactor core breach blasted the mech apart. Apparently for today the Widowmakers were ignoring _Zellbringen_, the Clan code of one-on-one combat and seemed to be favoring overwhelming force to win at any cost, no matter how dirty they fought in the eyes of their brethren.

Ordering his remaining troopers to try and disable or at least slow down the _Marauders_, John dropped his MA5C and ignited the almighty sword, diving into the fray with a slashing attack that left two more Widowmaker Elementals neatly bisected just above the navel.

Slashing and dodging between the _Hunchback _legs, John kept a steady stream of kills coming as did the remaining Wolverine Elementals. The Widowmaker Elementals appeared oblivious to the loss of their number and it was apparent why. If they could take out the remaining _Hunchback_, that was the last major battlefield threat to their mechs, and it practically ensured their victory.

Another warning tone chimed as John turned to see the _Catapult's _last flight of missiles launch, but instead of being aimed at his Point's entrenched position, they were coming at _him._ Apparently the Widowmaker warrior felt that their own troops were expendable as the salvo of thirty missiles rained in from the sky and slammed into the doomed _Hunchback_.

"GET CLEAR!"John shouted into his radio as he sprinted away from the exploding mech, Meghan Buckler and his Point right on his heels. Then what felt like a strong punch to the back hit him as the reactor went critical on the doomed _Hunchback_. Both he and Meghan were blasted clear off their feet and tossed almost fifty yards before crashing back into the desert floor. Only the two of them plus a single Elemental from Whitfield's Star survived, the rest were consumed in the blast.

Seeing the last Wolverine mech fall, the remaining Widowmaker mechs charged on forward to the contested zone, knowing that they had only to hold the position for another five minutes. While there was a strong urge to finish the remaining Wolverine warriors completely, cooler heads prevailed deciding why chance needless fighting that could jeopardize the success of the Trial.

John collected himself slowly, his world spinning and crawled hands and knees over to where Meghan lay unmoving. Her vitals showed as green, she was merely knocked unconscious. Grabbing the clawed hand of her armor, he dragged her back to the entrenched position where his two remaining Points kept vainly firing the Haymaker cannons at the Widowmaker mechs that now occupied the contested zone.

_We've lost_, John thought. _We've failed._ Looking over the littered remains of his Star and his dead troopers, _I've failed_. He still did not give up though, unslinging his SPNKR launcher, he fired two shots at the damaged _Catapult_ that his infantry had managed to work over fairly severely, but was still standing. His missiles hit one of the two missile racks on the left shoulder of the mech, blowing the rack apart, but that was it.

High above on the cliffs Star Commander Whitfield and his remaining Point could see the twilight of the battle unfold, the wind now having died down and visibility returning to normal. Against all odds he had been able to eliminate the enemy Star that tried to flank the cliff face, but he had only five troopers left, having suffered even heavier casualties than John did. His thoughts echoed John's, _it is over. Stravag it is over!_

Star Captain Rick Karrige surveyed the battlefield high up on from his _Marauder's _cockpit. Elemental casualties had been heavy and he lost one of his Starmates, but overall the battle had turned out to be a success. Still, he felt a black ball in hi stomach, for it was an honorless victory. The Clan Wolverine forces faced his outnumbered and almost certainly facing defeat from the onset, yet they had managed to fell one of his best warriors, severely damage another mech and not a single Widowmaker Elemental was alive on the field, even despite his Trinary having used less than honorable tactics. _No passages in the Remembrance_ _will be sung of this day_, he thought even as the victory chime sounded, indicating an end to the Trial. Widowmaker was the victor.

His communications crackled alive, and this voice of Khan Cal Jorgensson was heard. "Congratulations, Star Captain. Your Trinary has fought well this day, quiaff?"

Karrige paused a moment before replying, scarcely believing his Khan was _complimenting_ on the victory. "Aff, ovkhan. Do we take bondsmen or offer heigra, quiaff?"

A static filled response came to his ears, "Neg. Slaughter them." Karrige's heart skipped a beat when he heard the order.

"Ovkhan, my radio must be malfunctioning, did you just order me to attack, quineg?"

"_AFF! _The ilKhan decrees it, no survivors. Especially the _Outsider_ who wears the special green armor."

Karrige angrily hit the off button for his communications, and his Star fanned out for the final attack.

John saw the three _Marauders_ and damaged _Catapult_ swing around and face his remaining troops, and deep in his subconscious he knew what was coming next. At his feet in the trench Meghan Buckler stirred and started to sit up, just then a PPC bolt struck John square in the chest, knocking Meghan to the side and John went flying out of his trench.

He landed face-up in the open field, electrical arcs encompassing his armor that was now charred black, and the front breastplate was completely melted and deformed. John knew pain like he never had known as his skin blistered and he was electrocuted inside his own armor, and then he mercifully passed out. The few remaining Elementals opened fire with what they had left, but everyone on the battlefield knew it was a losing fight.

Whitfield from the cliffs saw the betrayal and roared, igniting his jumpjets and his four remaining troopers followed suit, even as the second _Marauder_ brought its torso around and unleashed a punishing barrage of firepower that sent him into the next life.

_Reroute...reroute...reroute_

_ While John was done and tapped out of this fight, his armor toasted and most electrical systems fried, Cortana was still mercifully in one piece, and was trying her best to get systems running again or redirect functions through the undamaged channels in the armor's network. In the space of a millisecond the diagnostics from his armor came in:_

_Shields: DESTROYED_

_Life Support: DESTROYED_

_Sensors: DESTROYED_

_Nanocomposite Bodysuit: DESTROYED_

_Power Core: OVERLOADED, BACKUP POWER ONLY_

_ Roughly translate, the MJOLNIR armor was dead, and would never work or see battle again. It had finally seen its last battle, but the battle had not seen the last of John...or her. The radio systems still had power, but there were cataclysmic system failures all throughout the crystalline mesh. Power spikes and overloads were occurring at all levels, she had to get out of the armor or else she would be erased...permanently._

_ The helmet camera was miraculously still working, although it was hardly providing a reassuring image, in fact it showed the image of a 75 ton foot of a _Marauder_ about to crush John underfoot. There was no way she would let that happen, and made perhaps the most desperate gamble of her existence. If it worked, she might be able to save the one man she cared about above all, if she failed, well, she was dead either way. Activating the radio and tapping into the Widowmaker communications, in the space of time of an eyeblink, Cortana was in John's suit, and then she wasn't. She was gone. Not destroyed, but rather she had _moved.

Star Captain Karrige kept his mech's foot hovering over the prone and lifeless form of the Outsider, hesitating and mentally hating himself for the order his Khan had given him. "This is _not_ the Clan way," he spoke aloud to nobody in particular.

To his surprise a distinctly female and rather sultry voice answered him, "that's right it isn't." Suddenly his mech shuddered as it shuffled several steps back from where it had been standing. Wrestling with his twin joystick controls trying to regain command of his machine, Karrige felt a very strange sense of unease.

"Wha, what is happening?"

The Voice chuckled slightly. "Oh nothing much, I'm just taking over your ride, and you just pissed off the wrong chick. Time for you to get out of here." Before Karrige could even begin to compose a reply he saw the autoeject system in his mech activate, his canopy blew off and he rocketed into the sky.

_Ok, now that it's less crowded in here, let's even the score some shall we._ Cortana brought the _Marauder _around, and trained the twin PPC's on its first cousin, and then let all fury break loose as she let everything in the machine fly.

Meghan Buckler could scarcely believe what she was seeing. She saw the mech about to crush John, then she saw it shuffle several steps back and the mechwarrior ejecting. But instead of falling to the ground as it should have done with no sense of balance, the machine stayed upright and actually _fired_ on its starmates! Waving her arms to signal a cease-fire for the remaining troops, she watched in fascination as it tore into the Widowmaker mechs. Yes, the Trial was lost but whatever had just commandeered the _Marauder _was going to make sure there was not going to be anyone alive to tell the tale.

The remaining Widowmaker warriors gave pause as well, unsure about what was happening, awestruck at what they were witnessing. Mechwarriors in mechs, even experienced warriors could only move their mechs with so much precision since controls were provided via joysticks and foot pedals, there was far less precision than say controlling one's own body. But the possessed _Marauder_, it moved with a fluidity that only a living being could possess, and the three remaining warriors in the two other _Marauders_ and _Catapult_ felt as if they had just made a very, very big mistake.

Cortana swung the legs of her new body around, kicking the badly damaged _Marauder _that she had just mauled and flipping it on its back with a well placed punch with one of her arms. A foot to the cockpit ended the threat very quickly, and she turned and crouched to face the remaining mechs, her arms spread in a _bring it_ fashion, John's inert form behind her.

_You pulled me out of the fire on High Charity, time for me to return the favor._ Another devious thought crossed her mind and she mentally smiled as she turned on the mech's loudspeakers and decided to introduce the Widowmakers to a select audio track from her universe.

The only sound anyone knew who was watching and listening was distinctly alien and sounded viscous, and could not quite be adequately described. Meghan Buckler thought is was the cry of a Demon from Hell. To the two remaining Widowmaker warriors, they felt that they really _were_ facing a 75 ton wolverine that was protecting its pup.

_"WORT WORT WARRRTTT!"_ As soon as she played the Sanghelli battle cry, Cortana charged. A punch and a swinging kick brought the _Catapult _to the ground, a PPC blast to the exposed cockpit killing the mechwarrior before he even had time to scream.

Twisting her torso to the left, she brought a punch to the back of the remaining _Marauder_, and another spinning kick brought the mech to the ground. Before it could get up, she pinned the machine beneath one of her feet and leveled her right PPC at the cockpit.

"Tell mommy how you want it," came her one-liner, giving the Widowmaker mechwarrior just enough time to soil his pants before he was vaporized at by the point blank shot.

Meghan saw the battle unfold, in less than two minutes the possessed _Marauder_ had felled the entire Widowmaker force. She had recognized the voice on the loudspeaker though as Cortana's, and felt very relieved. Running to John's side she peeled off his helmet, revealing his burnt skin, but was mercifully still breathing.

Cortana slowly walked up and crouched down low, hovering over the pair. Seeing John in his current state, she felt anger unlike that she had ever known boil over. Raising the mech to its full height she aimed her PPC's at the sky, and broadcast a message in the clear to everyone who was listening, both on loudspeaker and radio.

_"I AM COMING FOR ALL OF YOU!"_

_A/N: I can imagine this chapter is going to be filled with controversy, the Chief got beat, his MJOLNIR armor dead and Cortana now in a 75 ton behemoth body and very seriously pissed off. I've read a bunch of Halo fictions and what I don't want this to be is a story where there is a predictable climatic struggle but he always invariably wins. No character is safe in this fic, and the Chief's luck is running out. For the faithful that will keep reading, hold on, there is much, _much_ more goodness to come in the chapters ahead!_

_-Outreach117_


	18. Chapter 17

_A/N: In honor on the eve of the launch of Halo: Reach, I've got another present for you, enjoy!_

_-Outreach117_

_Chapter 17_

_Jumpship _Supernova_, Circe Orbit, October 8th 0429 hours, 2823_

_beep...beep...beep...beep_

The EKG that stood next to John's bunk in the medical wing gave off a steady stream of data on its patient. Meghan Buckler had seen such wounds before, just never on anyone who was still _alive. _She sat next to his bed, deep down feeling terrible at his condition. She watched John's chest rise and fall steadily, his breathing being assisted by the oxygen tube that ran from his nose down to his lungs, and deep down wished that he would wake up.

By all expectations John should not have even been alive. The PPC blast had covered almost sixty percent of his body in second and third degree burns, courtesy of the intense electrical arcing and incredible heat generated from the shot. Burns aside, it was a miracle that his heart even continued to beat considering the sheer amounts of volts and amperage that had gone through his body, For anyone else who lacked John's incredible physique and augmentations, there would have been no question that they would have been dead long before hitting the ground. Spartans, however, were just simply made of sterner stuff.

The emergency response had proceeded textbook style. No sooner had Cortana felled the final mech that a _Leopard-_class dropship had descended from a very low orbit and landed, immediately scooping up the survivors. The very moment that everyone been tied in they were rocketing into space in the hypersonic space plane, and barely twenty minutes after takeoff they were docked with the _Supernova_ and John was being rushed to the medical wing.

While the medics and doctors aboard had been able to stabilize him, he would not make a complete recovery for weeks even if he survived the day. To top it off, his armor was completely destroyed. The intense heat of the blast had fused most of the armor seals or otherwise deformed the plates, so the medics had been forced to use diamond-bladed circular saws to literally cut the armor off him. The sliced and mangled remains of his gear was being held under guard in the ship's armory away from prying eyes. While the suit itself was wasted, there might still be possibilities in salvaging some of the technology, or at least enough to make a crude clone suit. Salvageable or not though, it was still John's suit and nothing would happen to it without his express permission, and Meghan believed that he would want his precious armor respected and she intended to honor that wish. There was one exception though, his helmet was still entirely intact, and its blasted visor sat on the table across from John's bed, the cracked amber screen giving a distorted picture of a man fighting for survival, and a woman in anguish.

As important to her that John was, she also had her Elemental Binary to think of. Over fifty warriors went in, and including her and John only twelve came out. Miles, Yelena and Franco were dead, killed in the opening volleys of the battle. Galen was badly wounded, having lost an arm, several shattered ribs and two fingers from his one remaining hand. Even with the Clan's highly advanced prosthesis, it was doubtful that he would ever see battle again. More than likely he would be reassigned to a second-line or garrison unit that Clans called _dezgra_, a virtual dead-end to anywhere. It was possible that he might be assigned to training depending on how generous the Khan was feeling. Any which way it was still a whispering end to what had been a promising career. Yes, the warriors of the Clans did sit at the top of the pyramid in the Clans social structure, but it was hardly without a heavy cost and understandably not terribly envied by the rest of the Clan. The average lifespan of a Clan warrior was only 36, and more than eighty percent died in battle or from wounds sustained in battle before the age of 40 and for the fraction that still lived, many were in a bad shape.

Meghan was one of the lucky ones, she only suffered a few broken ribs and a shattered left arm when the _Hunchback _had gone critical and sent her flying. Right now she felt about as useful as a lead weight in a sinking ship. The remaining survivors fared about as well, some better, some worse. The one _Warhammer _pilot who ejected mercifully came out relatively unscathed minus some burns, the other three mech pilots were dead, killed either by enemy attack or when their mechs went critical.

To top everything off there was the sudden turn of events with Cortana, John's artificial construct. Meghan was having an impossible time coming to terms that an entire mech was more or less completely autonomous and sentient. She had no idea what the future held for Cortana, and frankly that was completely out of her hands, and far above her pay grade. When the dropship had docked with the_ Supernova_ and John was rushed away, Cortana's massive form had just stood there as she saw him being wheeled away on a gurney. Surprisingly Cortana had not made a sound or even a complaint, which is what Meghan was worried about most. It was the complete lack of response that had the Star Captain utterly convinced that Cortana was ready to take the ship apart bolt by bolt, and deep down she knew that no single person could really stop her. Casting a sidelong glance at John's sleeping form she revised her thought, _no single person who is currently in fighting condition _she mused. She only hoped that things stayed cool enough and that Cortana did not do anything rash. After all, trying to placate a 75-ton weapon of war whose sole purpose of existence was to protect the man who was inches from death was not the most appealing prospect.

_Jumpship _Supernova_ Mech Hangar_

Cortana felt so lost and alone, she honestly had no idea what to do. Over and over she played the possible situations in hear head, and wished terribly that Doctor Halsey was around to give her some advice, or just _someone _to talk to, anyone except that blasted Meghan Buckler. She had seen them come in and take John away. She had let them go, despite her desire to taking things into her own hands she knew that the Clan medics were the best and only hope for John to survive.

She found herself faced by a very real predicament in that if John died, what would be her purpose? She was made specifically to be paired with a Spartan, and out of all the SPARTAN-II's she had chosen him, and now there was every possibility that he would be dead before this day was out. Protocol dictated that if he were to die, then she should be erased and the MJOLNIR armor self-destructed to ensure no recovery of any sensitive UNSC or ONI information.

It was very clear under Cole Protocol Article II what _should_ have happened, she should have remained in the suit and died with John on that battlefield. Had they still been back home it would have been treason punishable by immediate destruction for failure to follow protocol, but as it was she wasn't back home, and using that logic she had been able to bypass the failsafe, commandeer this immense weapon of war, and save her Spartan. Now, she found herself going over in her head over and over if it really had been the right thing to do.

Taking a mental sigh of frustration, she instead devoted herself to the one thing that she was skilled at, hacking and data mining. The _Marauder's_ systems and communications still held an active line back to the Clan Widowmaker network, so Cortana thought that she might take a peek at the other team's playbook, see what they were up to. Sifting through the firewalls was like child's play, the humans of this universe had been so bent on total warfare for the past several centuries that they were at a virtual technological dark age, at least as far as computers and software went. Granted their weapons of war on the ground were impressive and she had no doubt a single star of battlemechs would have made the difference in any Covenant ground invasion, their software development was, in two words, piss poor.

Sidestepping and dancing about the datastream, Cortana avoided the firewalls and alerts like a gymnastics competition, perusing at her leisure for anything of interest, and anything of use. She decided to start with the top, the ilKhan, and with a few custom-made hacks and tweaks Cortana slipped inside his personal files. All at once she had access to every little dirty secret, along with a video feed apparently being broadcast live right from the Clan Grand Council chambers. Keeping an interested eye on the proceedings, Cortana simultaneously began to shine light on things that only existed in the dark...

_Live Captioned Video Feed, Strana Mechty, Clan Grand Council Halls_

**Kerensky [ilKhan]:** My honorable friend, the Khan from Clan Wolverine, continues to ignore the decisions of this body as verified by the recent Trial. I do not care that the cache is of the 331st Royal Division, her father's command. This body is agreed that the caches are a resource belonging to the Clans as a whole. In the old order, her paternal loyalty would be commended, but this not the old order. We are the Clans. We stand on our own merits, not those of our ancestors.

**Sarah McEvedy [Wolverine]:** Except you.

**Kerensky [ilKhan]:** I beg your pardon?

**McEvedy:** I said, except you. You seem perfectly happy to bask in your father's achievements. He was a visionary who sought justice and peace for all. You seek control.

**Mitchell Loris [Mongoose]:** Khan McEvedy, you go too far.

**McEvedy:** Do I? I know many of you in this chamber found our ilKhan's actions to secure control of the Pentagon population offensive. The Star League did not believe in torture and brutality. Those are the tools of power hungry madmen. Is that what you have become, Nicholas Kerensky? A power hungry madman?

_Voices began yelling from all parties and pademonium began to break loose..._

_Cortana_

Still focused on the two simultaneous tasks, she paused over an interesting file named _Watch_. Opening and exploring the contents, it appeared that the ilKhan had quite the operation going. A modern-day KGB or Gestapo type operation, loyalists in all Clans ensuring that things got done and doing his dirty work for him. Unsurprisingly, she found a name and file for a certain deceased Elemental Star Commander named _G. Ebon/Wolverine_, as a member of this _Watch_ secret organization. It brought a sense of satisfaction that despite his clear orders that were detailed in the file to sabotage John's Trial several months back to make it look like he died in battle, that instead Ebon was now in a grave somewhere minus his head, courstesy of a love-tap by an energy sword. Cortana downloaded the entire _Watch_ file into her databanks so that she could more thoroughly dissect it later as the drama in the Council Chambers was really starting to heat up and she found another peculiar file folder named _unkn_E.T_psite_...

_Council Hall_

**Kerensky:** SILENCE! Sarah McEvedy, Khan of Clan WolverineI, Nicholas Kerensky, ilKhan of the Clans, do call for a Trial of Grievance. By our law, you may...

**McEvedy:** Hang your laws. Does the truth hurt so much, Nicholas?

**Kerensky:** Fellow Khans, our colleague is clearly overwrought. I call for a vote of censure. Loremaster Ward, please...

**McEvedy:** Don't bother, Nicholas. I'll leave. In fact, we'll all leave. Clan Wolverine no longer recognizes the authority of the ilKhan or the Grand Council. From this point forward, we are an independent power. We decide our own fate, fairly and according to the morals and standards of the Star League.

**Kerensky:** You cannot do this.

**McEvedy:** I can and I have.

_Sarah got to her feet and started towards the door, pure rage written all across her face._

_Cortana_

_Oh no, she didn't,_ Cortana thought to herself and mentally smiled. The fire in McEvedy reminded Cortana so much of Dr. Halsey it was actually refreshing, if not even a bit encouraging. Unfortunately, that feeling was to be a tad short-lived. Opening the suspicious folder, Cortana was bombarded with data, mathematical calculations, tissue samples and exotic DNA chains that were nightmarishly familiar. _It can't be, it's IMPOSSIBLE!_ Cortana checked, and checked again. In the space of time of an eyeblink she had run over a hundred checks, and every single one came back with the same results, _POSITIVE..._

_Council Hall_

**Kerensky:** Arrest her!

_Sarah turned on the Khan and his security guards and pulled out her pistol, while simultaneously a Point of armorted Wolverine Elementals surrounded the Khan to escort her out._

**McEvedy:** If you want to face us, fine. But we will not hold back. Prepare to reap the whirlwind.

_The Wolverine entourage calmly walked out of the Grand Council Chambers for the last time in history._

**Kerensky**: My Khans we face a serious decision...

_Cortana_

Cortana reeled from the connection to the network, and found herself back in her massive body again, and she began to tremble and shake in what was the equivalent of a panic attack. Her massive form stumbled across the mech hangar, the techs around her scrambling for a clear area to avoid getting squashed. Cortana's mind was a swathe of revelation, pain and memory, and all the old wounds that had scarred over from her ordeal on _High Charity _and three _Halo's_ festered and ruptured open...

_Sickbay_

Meghan Buckler was still sitting at John's bedside when she thought she heard the sound of a woman crying and whimpering. Normally this would not have concerned her too much, except for the other panicked yells and sounds of something banging around in the mech bay only a deck below. Then her hair raised on her back and her skin bristled as a blood curtling scream, as loud as a dropship at liftoff that would literally wake the dead, sounded throughout the ship. John however, remained blissfully unaware...

_beep...beep...beep...beep...beep...beep...beep...beep_

_A/N: Happy Halo Reach Launch Night and if anyone from Bungie happens to be reading, thanks for the wonderful game in advance! I dunno if this story can measure up to anything, but its just my little appreciation in my own way. And for my BT Fans, here's to hoping the Mechwarrior Reboot gets done, and done right! For everyone else, keep R&Ring to your hearts content. Once I'm done achievement hunting in Halo: Reach and I have my focus again, I'll try and get a few more up here for you guys (and girls!)_

_-Outreach117_


	19. Chapter 18

_A/N: And now we continue with our irregularly scheduled program. Short and a quickie I know, but hope you enjoy it some...-Outreach117_

_Chapter 18_

_Jumpship _Supernova_, Circe Orbit, October 8th, 0436 hours, 2823_

Meghan Buckler purposefully strode through the pressure doors and into the pandemonium that was the mech bay. Around her parts and pieces were strewn about, several mechs and scaffolds were knocked over as if a giant had come through on an enraged frenzy. That description wasn't far from the truth of the actual situation as techs were scurrying about to clear the deck in a panicked rush, and in the corner, crouched down and trembling stood Cortana, all 75 tons and three stories of pure war machine that she was.

The sight of the possessed _Marauder_ seemingly whimpering and cowering in the dark corner was almost too much, and Meghan for a few seconds found herself wondering whether she should be anxious at the situation, or find it funny as hell. At the moment, she was somewhere in-between.

Cortana for her part, noticed the newcomer to the scene, the damned queen bitch Star Captain herself. A torrent of new emotions flooded through her essence as her traumatic fear gave way to jealousy and rage. A sound somewhere between a shriek and a roar emitted from her external speakers as she bound over to the now quite solo Star Captain.

Meghan visibly shook as she controlled her fear as the towering mech became ominously close, and found herself staring upwards at the barrels of a pair of the oversized particle cannons that were Cortana's arms.

"IT WOULD BE SO EASY," Cortana spoke in a slow and deliberate tone, as the PPC's started to glow a white-blue. Meghan, however, kept her cool and looked up from the cannon muzzles and into Cortana's "eyes", the external cameras mounted on the nose of the empty cockpit.

"Aff, it would be. But you would not." Meghan, for her part, managed to keep her fear in check and did not flinch.

_**"AND WHY WOULD YOU THINK THAT? DO YOU THINK I LACK THE BALLS TO BLAST YOU TO DUST?"**_Cortana's voice boomed at a deafening level, so much that even Meghan had jumped back and covered her ears and almost dropped to her knees, feeling like she had been punched in the head. Her ears rang unmercifully, like a cannon had just been fired while standing right below the muzzle.

Slowly regaining her balance, she removed her hands from her and looked Cortana square in the eyes again. "Aff, you do. But we both know I am the best chance for the man we both love." There, she said it. She loved John. Clanners did not experience love. Love was a human reaction, a physical reaction of lesser beings. A genetic defect that had yet to be worked out of the human genome. And yet, she did.

Cortana took a step back and crouched down on her haunches, her anger evaporating to despair and helplessness, and the 75 ton avatar started to sob. Meghan slowly inched closer to Cortana. Seeing that she did not reel back or make any aggressive moves she leaned in closer, and rested her hand on the tip of the cockpit that was Cortana's "head". The metal was cold, sending goosebumps up Meghan's forearms, the action itself feeling oddly strange that she should be making a physically comforting move for an entity that probably had no real physical sense of touch. The emotional aspect, however, was hugely symbolic and Cortana just sobbed and sobbed.

"WE...WE SHOULDN'T...WE SHOULDN'T BE HERE. WE DON'T BEL...BELONG HERE." Cortana managed to choke out between whimpers.

"Then where do you belong, where is home for you?" Meghan replied, a puzzled look coming across her face as her brow furrowed.

"WE BELONG BACK IN OUR OWN TIME, OUR OWN PLACE. IT...IT CAME WITH US. WE THOUGHT...THOUGHT WE HAD DESTROYED IT. BUT IT'S HERE. _**IT IS HERE.**_"

"What came with you?" Meghan asked, as a small black ball started to fill in the pit of her stomach.

"THE MONUMENT TO ALL OF OUR SINS."

"Perhaps you should explain..."

_Sickbay, Same time_

MedTech Vivian entered into John's room, fresh IV bags in hand to replenish her patient's supply. The doors slid open with a _woosh_ and instead of finding her patient laying on his back fast asleep, she was greeted by a very well muscled and scarred bare chest. Looking up, she found that the chest belonged to a certain Elemental Star Commander John Wolverine. Piercing blue eyes that were intense yet tired looked down on her small form, the burns that spotted his body making his appearance all the more menacing. When he spoke, however, it was so soft, gentle and deep that she felt like she was being lulled, and if it weren't for the copious amounts of bandages that covered his body, she would have felt compelled to ask him to couple with her right there.

"MedTech, please assist me in getting down to the mech hangar."

Blinking in surprise, Vivian quickly recomposed herself and wordlessly moved under John's large arm, letting him support some of his weight on her shoulder as they started the long limp down to the hangar.


	20. Chapter 19

_A/N: Wasn't exactly planning on pumping out another chapter right on the eve of mid-terms, but there's a certain somebody who's a fan and it's her birthday, so happy birthday and I hope you like your present! -Outreach117_

_Chapter 19_

_Jumpship _Supernova, _Circe Orbit, October 8th, 0442 hours, 2823_

John had never felt pain like this before. Everything hurt, ached, or burned. Even the agony that had been post-augmentation recovery paled at the comparison of the pain he was in. But, pain was a good thing. It meant he was alive, but he wished it didn't have to hurt so damn much.

Limping down the corridor with an arm draped over Vivian's shoulder, he grimaced as they neared their destination, the mech bay. Cortana's scream had been audible all the way up to his room along with the bangs and echos of something incredibly big, heavy and seriously pissed off ambling about in the bowels of the jumpship.

"Are we almost there?" John's gruff voice asked Vivian as they made another turn down a long corridor.

"Aff, Star Commander. Just at the end of this bend and..." CRASH! Another loud echo came from the mech bay.

"We should pick up the pace, quiaff?" Came the meek comment from the medtech.

"Aff, that would be most advisable."

Gritting his teeth and hiding his obvious agony, the pair moved at a shuffle jog down the last stretch towards the entrance to the hangar, the oversized sliding doors parting to give the duo an entrance. The image that lay beyond, John could scarcely believe and blinked a couple times to be sure his mind wasn't playing tricks on him. Cortana's thirty foot tall bulk was crouched all the way down to the deck, her arms laying limply at her sides on the ground, and her nose also prostrate. In front of her stood Meghan Buckler and Star Colonel Ryan Hennessey, the Jumpship's captain. The image almost reminded him of a mouse walking up to the feet of an elephant, and furthermore the three seemed to be in a deep conversation, so deep that they didn't even notice John's approach.

As John got closer, he could hear Hennessy speaking to Cortana in his ever calm and reserved voice. "You will have to forgive me, Cortana, but this is all rather incredible. While we of the Clans may not necessarily get along, I cannot fathom that the ilKhan would hide such secrets from the rest of us. Especially if they pose a threat to..."

The Star Colonel never got a chance to finish his sentence as Cortana suddenly reared to her full height as the new visitors registered to her.

"JOHN! I NEED YOU!" Her booming voice echoed throughout the mech bay as she took several lumbering steps towards the wounded Spartan. Even before she had begun to walk, almost comically everyone in the mech bay had dived for cover to give the autonomous war machine _plenty_ of room. Cortana still had not learned some of the finer motor controls for her new body, and the remains of scaffolds and crushed pallets littered the deck. Vivian, as soon as she saw the incoming _Marauder_, screamed at the top of her lungs and sprinted out of the mech bay, leaving John very much alone with Cortana on the open hangar deck. John for his part, didn't even flinch despite every fiber in his body telling him to duck behind something.

Coming to a halt mere feet before John, Cortana again lowered herself back down to the ground, taking a position that reminded the Spartan of a dog laying obediently before its owner.

"JOHN, JOHN. ARE YOU OK?" Cortana's query came out almost in half sobs, her obvious terror at the prospect of losing her Spartan clearly in the forefront of her mind.

"I will be fine, Cortana. In a bit of pain but still very much functional," John half lied. In truth, he wanted nothing more than to lay back down on his cot in the medbay with a large dose of morphine and just sleep.

Cortana wasn't entirely convinced of his answer, "ARE YOU SURE, JOHN. IF THERE IS ANYTHING I CAN..." She was silenced by an upraised hand from the Spartan, who clearly did not want to discuss his condition further.

"I should ask the same about you. I heard your scream loud and clear from over two decks up. What is wrong?"

Cortana's body started to shudder and shake, and John found himself involuntarily taking a few steps back from Cortana who suddenly seemed a lot bigger and deadlier than she was only a few mere seconds before.

"IT FOLLOWED US HERE, JOHN. I DON'T KNOW HOW, BUT SOMEHOW THE FLOOD IS HERE."

At the mention of the flood, John felt his blood also involuntarily turn cold as well. Speaking slowly, and deliberately, John spoke, "Cortana. I need you to be sure. Are you absolutely cert-"

_**"YES, I AM! IT IS HERE, DAMMIT, THE FLOOD IS HERE!"**_ The deafening roar of her reply was enough to send John tumbling back and landing rather ungracefully on his back, grunting in pain as fire laced up his body.

Meghan and Ryan, who had been watching the entire exchange from behind the protective cover of an _Atlas_ leg, took that moment to run to John's side and help the disoriented and stunned Spartan back to his feet. Cortana, for her part, slowed her shaking and trembling as she calmed herself, feeling genuine regret about not only her reaction to John's question, but also it was the first time she had ever cursed at him.

Lowering herself back to the deck, she tried to speak more softly and calmly. "I AM SORRY, JOHN I DIDN'T MEAN TO HURT YOU." The Spartan merely nodded and gave a small smile as he bit back pain as Ryan and Meghan hauled him to his feet slowly, one on each arm.

Ryan spoke first, "Star Commander, perhaps we should start at the beginning. What is this 'Flood' that Cortana has talked about, and why have you not ever told any of us?"

John gave the Star Colonel an uneasy sideways glance, the suspicion and concern written across Ryan's face apparent. Looking left, Meghan appeared if anything disturbed. Not because of the existence of the Flood, but because he and Cortana hadn't _told_ them.

_I am in it deep now_, John thought to himself. _These people trusted me, took me in, made me one of their own, and I withheld vital information from them. _

"The Flood is...it is everything you could possibly imagine in your worst nightmare. We thought we had destroyed it, apparently not."

Meghan spoke next, "John, we need you and Cortana to be honest with us. Just what is it that came through the portal with you and _why_ did you not tell us?" The hurt and disappointment was obvious. John looked back and forth at the various technicians and workers that had also come out of hiding, not wanting to share classified UNSC information in front of so many people.

The Star Colonel seemed to pick up on John's reservation as he followed the Spartan's eyes to the many gathering ears. "Clear this deck, give me the room, now!" Hennessy's voice bellowed. Obediently everyone except for the trio evacuated the mech hangar, a few even sprinted to the exits, grateful to be clear of the berserk mech.

"Now, Star Commander, that we have achieved privacy, you need to talk. You need to come clean with us, what exactly is this thing that you have not told us?"

Internally, John's mind raced. Decades of conditioning told him not to reveal anything, even under threat of torture or death, do not betray the UNSC. Another half, the practical half, told him otherwise. _Either way, I am a traitor,_ he mentally checked himself. The flood needed to be stopped, and he simply could not do it without help from Wolverine.

Sighing deeply, John began to tell Meghan and Ryan _everything..._

_Sometime later..._

Ryan Hennessy felt like he wanted to throw up, Meghan already had emptied her stomach more than a couple times throughout the conversation. John and Cortana's description of the Food had been incredibly detailed and graphic, but the images of the Flood infection-forms mutating humans the way they did had simply proven too much for the Star Captain to handle. John was back in medbay, Meghan having escorted him to his room where she was undoubtedly going to give him a piece of her mind.

The Star Colonel understood, John was simply following orders that had been issued and ingrained into him, but Meghan had felt like she had been betrayed somehow personally.

Reaching his quarters, he purposefully strode over to the HPG uplink computer that gave him a direct line to Khan McEvedy's office on Circe and began to furiously type away...


End file.
